Check Yes, Juliet
by elleindie
Summary: In her freshman year of college, can Bella Swan get past the brutal first stages of awkwardness and trust issues with Edward Cullen, or will her sheltered past prevent her from moving forward? AU, ALL-HUMAN. HELP ME DECIDE whether I should keep writing!
1. Orange Juice and Surprises

**Summary.  
**Bella Swan's freshman year in college is full of new experiences and new faces. One of those faces is Edward Cullen, the beautiful yet indecisive junior who's sister is Bella's roommate. Can she get past the brutal first stage of awkwardness and shaky trust with the bronze-haired boy, or will her sheltered past prevent her from moving forward? AU, all-human.

-- -- --

**Check Yes, Juliet  
by The Volvo**

"God, Rose. Cheer up, will you?"

I shook my head as she bounced out of the car before I'd even put it in park. The car – _my _car – had been part of my 'graduation package,' a gift from my parents and my grandmother on Renee's side. It was a borderline beater, but they'd promised that in Chicago, I probably wouldn't need it all that much anyway. And though gas had taken several days and an absolute fortune to drive from Forks to Chicago (Rose had picked up some of the tab despite my disapproval), it felt nice to know I had my own car, even if it wasn't my gas-guzzling Chevy.

Rosalie poked her head, blonde curls bouncing in anticipation, through the window she'd forgotten to roll up – a counteractant to the lack of air conditioning in the middle of Illinois in September. She stuck her tongue out before adopting a faux mask of tragedy.

"How ever shall I survive without you, my anti-social, introverted friend?" She cocked an eyebrow at me before skipping to the rear of the car and banging a fist on the trunk.

"How, indeed," I muttered, before reaching across the car to roll up her window. As I climbed out of the car, a silver flash of vehicle whizzed past, just a foot from taking off my open door, to assume one of the spots closer to the dorms. Glaring at the offending car, I shut the door of my Sentra and joined Rosalie at the trunk. She was twisting a golden tress between her fingers and staring at the vehicle.

"Someone in a hurry?" she mumbled while I unlocked the trunk and began unloading my few possessions. It wouldn't take more than one trip to get everything upstairs.

I glanced over the top of my car and was able to identify the maker of the car. "Mr. Volvo's probably some impatient tightwad all jacked up on seniority and it's perks." I smiled at Rose. "Grab a tote."

All of my personal effects had been stuffed away in three plastic totes – the kind used to store Christmas decorations – and a medium-sized duffel bag. Rosalie eyes the collection and grimaced.

"Honestly, Bella. How do you this way?" She looked at me, straight nose wrinkled. Rosalie, whose closet was the size of my bedroom back home.

I smiled. "Happily."

She stuck her tongue out at me again before picking up one of the totes and slinging the duffel bag over her shoulder – she was surprisingly agile and strong for her tall slender frame. I claimed the other two, slightly smaller totes and my guitar case, which was graffiti-ed with stickers from my favorite bands – there were classics like the Stones, Def Leppard, AC DC, and Joan Jett, plus my contemporary faves: Fall Out Boy, Boys Like Girls, Panic At The Disco. . . even a Jonas Brothers sticker. My guilty pleasure. Rose had snorted over my initial squeal of delight when I'd received it, but I slapped it on my case with dignity. It took guts, as an eighteen year old girl, to own up to being a Jo Bros fan.

We finally reached the dorm building after what felt like an uphill battle across perfectly flat pavement. My arms were threatening to fall off at the shoulders before we even reached the front door.

Fortunately when we did, some random guy – an upperclassmen, no doubt – took pity on us. He must have seen me eyeing the handle and correctly assumed that I'd been mentally calculating just how high I'd have to hitch my foot up to get it around tha handle to yank it open without having to put down my burden, for he opened it with a grin and held it for me and Rosalie.

I graced him with a grateful smiled, while he gifted Rosalie with a wink. She rolled her eyes when we were past him.

Rosalie was a woman in her own league. She'd been gifted by the genetic gods in the most gracious of ways; she was tall and lean, with long legs and arms that looked elegant on her, while they might have come off as awkward and irregular on anyone else. These were balanced off with a long, curvy torso, toned to perfection. Her skin was a golden anomaly for our small town of Forks, where sunlight was a rarity, as well as a tanning bed; her natural tan was a gift that was coupled with long, naturally wavy golden-blonde tresses, flowing easily to her mid-back. She was gorgeous, compared to my pale plain looks; she could easily have any man she wanted, and many expressed interest – at least those who weren't too intimidated by her beauty. But Rosalie blew them off with a roll of her eyes or wave of her hand. She wasn't interested in a relationship unless it meant something, and therefore she'd remained single her whole life. One night stands and sleeping around for the sake of saying she had was for lesser minds, not Rosalie.

However, she'd received a lot of backlash for her decision while we were in school. Being so beautiful and intimidating, Rosalie had been the one girl other girls looked up to, feared, and hated. She spawned jealousy everywhere she went. Most girls never took the chance to get to know her, and therefore our friends were limited pretty much to each other. But Rosalie was, in my opinion, too mice and sweet _not_ to be friends with. She'd been my sole confidante since eighth grade, when she'd moved to Forks, Washington. She was my first choice when deciding who would escort me to college, and therefore she was the one walking beside me, helping me carry my belongings to my dorm.

We didn't even contemplate taking the stairs once we'd reached the lobby, especially since there was an open lift straight ahead of us with plenty of space. The doors started to close so Rosalie, being her normal social self, shouted in a loud, clear voice, "Hold the elevator!"

A pale hand appeared between the door and its destination, and it bounced back to it's fully open position. Internally breathing a sigh of relief and hauling my totes into the lift, I murmured, "Thank you," and went to press the number three, which was already lit. I leaned against the wall and looked down; my shy tendencies were telling me to avoid eye contact with the stranger, so I obeyed. I focused on the white lid of the top tote, hoping the stranger didn't start talking to me.

I heard Rosalie clear her throat. I looked up, and saw her nod slightly towards our company, so I glanced at him for the first time.

He was beautiful, there was no other way to describe him. Pale and tall and perfect. His bright bronze hair was unruly and untidy and screamed at me to run my fingers through it; I was glad that my hands were full so that they wouldn't reach out of their own accord and do just that.

He looked at me and, as if he could read my thoughts about how much of a temptation his haired poised, chuckled. His emerald green eyes sparkled with laughter, and my guitar case, the strap of which had slowly been sliding down my arm without my realizing it, clattered against the wall behind me. My eyes wide, I retrieved it and hiked it back up onto my shoulder. Rosalie coughed to hide her laughter, but my eyes automatically went to the beautiful bronze-haired boy to see his reaction.

Whatever reaction he'd had, it was gone now; his eyes were on a small, sleek phone that he was typing on rapidly with his thumbs. My eyes traveled back up to his face, lingering unabashedly on his features.

His nose was straight, cheekbones angular, his lips full and soft-looking. And his hair. . . so tempting. . .

I hadn't even noticed he'd caught my gaze until I found I was drowning in a sea of green. He cleared his throat, and I surfaced; I looked down, embarrassed. I could feel a slow blush crawl across my face, staining my cheeks with heat. He smiled, a motion I saw out of the corner of my eye, and then, thankfully, the elevator doors clanged open.

Rose and I hauled my belongings out of the elevator before Bronze-Haired Boy could exit; we began searching the long hallway for my room, number three forty-seven. Despite the excess of noise and movement – people were throwing open dorm room doors, laughing, chatting, and in the background, low music pulsed – we found my room. To my dismay, the door was closed, unlike a majority of the others. Resigned, I began to shift my totes from one arm to the other to put them down and knock on the door. Before I bent my knees to set them on the floor, a pale hand shot out above my left shoulder and struck the door with a loud, rhythmic rap.

Shocked, I turned and came face-to-face with Beautiful Bronze-Haired Boy; he was only inches away from my left cheek now. He smiled, looking at me out of the corner of his eye, before calling out loudly.

"Al, open the door."

I heard a bang from within, before the rattling of the chain lock and the door flew inwards. Holding it open was a petite, frail-looking girl with spiky black hair and pale skin. Her eyes were a pretty teal color, leaning a little on the green side, and I could tell that she was related to Beautiful Bronze-Haired Boy simply from the fantastic looks, for she was just as beautiful as he. She glared at him ferociously, her eyes menacing, like a roiling, violent sea.

"Don't call me Al ever again, _Ed._"

He grimaced at her, before jutting his chin out in my direction a little and turning his back. "Meet your new roommate."

The small girl glowered at his back over my shoulder for a moment, before turning to me with a brilliant smile. "So sorry about him," she said, her voice loud and clear and melodious. "Hi, I'm Alice. Come on in."

Rose nudged me in the back, giving me the initial push to get through the doorway. I introduced myself on the way in, my voice quiet and shy. "Bella Swan," I said simply, and then felt stupid for some reason. Perhaps it was because I realized, once I stepped into my new dorm, that I was swimming way out of my depth.

Once inside, it was apparent that Alice was different; for being so small, she had big taste. The light walls on her side of the room were plastered in elegant and decorative frames, a lot of them stainless steel and other reflective metals; all of the pictures featured her and either a friend or family member; I spotted Bronze-Haired Boy in a few of them.

The rest of the room was decorated in deep purple and black. With the default white carpet and glimmering frames, it was very pretty. It seemed my roommate had a designer's touch. I studied her clothes then, and was embarrassed.

Her outfit screamed money. Her skinny-fit jeans tucked neatly into expensive stiletto boots; the collared shirt crisp under the vest that tucked in around her waist. I could practically feel my quarter-sleeve Henley and worn-in jeans crying in discontent. I prayed she'd take pity on my small collection of slip-on sneakers and my Doc Martin's.

I ducked my head, and set down my totes. Rosalie eyed the room around us. I could see the pure lust in her eyes; Rosalie was going to a design institute in New York. I could tell she was jealous of me, so fashion-inept, for having such an stylish roomie. She cocked an eyebrow at me. Right.

"Uh, Alice, this is my friend, Rosalie."

Rosalie gracefully dropped her load on the floor near the vacant bed and held out a hand, which Alice shook; Alice's hand in Rose's was a stark contrast of smooth white. The petite girl – absolutely pixie-like – beamed up at Rosalie with a peppy smile, which Rosalie returned in half. Rosalie was never peppy. Rosalie was understated elegance.

"Nice to meet you, Alice," Rose cooed, her voice friendly. She eyed the room, that envious gleam apparent in her blue eyes. "You have great taste. Perhaps you'll be able to instill a sense of style in Bella."

Alice grinned, and then gave my appearance a once-over. Oh, crap. "Well, Bella's done alright on her own. . ." Her eyes raked over the Henley and jeans, apparently satisfied, but froze on my slip-on Vans. "Oh, no. Bella, dear," she said, clucking her tongue as she smiled at me patronizingly. "Slip-ons? Darling, those simply will not do."

Alice ducked out of sight and pulled on a doorknob at the foot of her bed. Rosalie chortled at me with a raised eyebrow as if to say, "I told you so." Which she had. Several times.

Alice was heard moving things around in the joint closet I would be sharing with her. I craned my neck to peer in after her and gasped, my jaw successfully dropping halfway between it's current location and the floor. Alice had crammed half of a Macy's and an entire D&G boutique into half of the closet space, sleeves and pant legs and skirts and collars sticking out a different angles in her attempt to make it all fit. She definitely had enough options stuffed in there to have a different outfit every day of the week up until April Fool's, maybe longer. On the shelf above the hanging bar were twenty-five pairs of high heels, arranged by color, apparently. On the floor beneath her personalized department store were lined at least thirty-five pairs of ballet flats, and two lonely-looking pairs of designer tennis shoes.

Had I really gotten the right room? Surely they wouldn't room me with Miss Millionaire Diva, unless it was some kind of joke. Haha, let's shove lowly Bella Swan from Forks in with Alice, Little Miss Trust Fund. Ha, ha.

Alice popped out of the closet with a pair of black flats in her hand. "Size eight, right?"

I nodded, confounded, and Alice shoved the shoes towards me. "Put those on."

I took the shoes from her slowly, glaring at Rose, who was snickering silently behind her hand. When Alice turned to smile at her, Rosalie straightened out her expression. "I've been trying to get her out of those Vans for two years."

I sighed and leaned down to tug off my beloved slip-ons and socks, to be replaced with the seemingly new patent flats. They were shiny and stiff.

I raised an eyebrow and smiled meekly once I stood up straight again. "Good thing we're the same size," I muttered. Alice waved her hand and began rearranging her shoes to fill the void left behind by the flats I was wearing.

"I'm a seven. I just keep extra pairs in different sizes around in case of emergencies." The way she smiled at me made it apparent that my shoe situation had officially been classified as catastrophic. I laughed once and was gingerly placing my Vans on top of my duffel bag when someone cleared their throat.

All three of us girls glanced towards the doorway at the same moment. Two guys stood there; Bronze-Haired Boy was in the front, and behind him, a brooding, fair-skinned blond with his hands stuck in his pockets. Alice grinned at them and waved them in, jumping into introductions.

"Bella, Rosalie, this is my brother and his friend, Edward and Jasper, respectively." Even the way she spoke reminded me of the prim and proper billionaire families you saw on television and in movies.

Edward stepped forward. "We've met, actually," he said, grinning at me and then eyeing my guitar case as I blushed. He held a hand out for me to shake. Smiling back, embarrassed, I took it.

An electric bolt zinged up through my elbow and shoulder, a course of current that left my skin tingling. It wasn't like static electricity; it was like heat, strong and warm; like lightning, miniaturized and contained into a less-dangerous, just-as-intense shock. He pulled away with a raised eyebrow and chuckled, before turning to Rosalie and repeating the gesture, just minus the jolt. Jasper only nodded at each of us in turn, before glancing back up at Alice with intense hazel eyes.

"Are you ready, Allie?"

"You know, Jazz, maybe you and Edward should just go ahead. Bella just arrived, I really don't want to just leave her—"

"No," I interjected. "If you have plans already, don't worry about me. I'll have to take Rose to the hotel eventually anyways." I smiled at each of them. Edward raised a brow at me again, and Alice shook her head adamantly.

"No, Bella, I'm serious. How about you guys go ahead, have a guys' night out, and then we girls can figure something out. Maybe help you unpack and then we could go out to eat somewhere?" She looked at me with wide, hopeful eyes, an expression I couldn't say no to. I shrugged.

"I suppose, so long as Edward and Jasper don't mind leaving you behind. . .?" I glanced at them. Edward was watching me as I spoke, and when I met his gaze, he winked.

"I don't think we'll mind at all," he said. His voice was deep and musical. Enticing. "Come on, Jasper. Guys' night out." He shot the three of us a blinding smile before slipping out into the hall. "We'll be at Palino's if you need anything, Al." He chuckled as she flipped him off, and then disappeared down the hall. Alice rolled her eyes and glanced up at me.

"I love Edward, I do, but God help me, if he doesn't stop calling me Al, he'll wake up with a significantly shorter hair cut." Rosalie chuckled and Alice slid the door shut before clapping her hands together. "So. Let's unpack!"

Alice was a force of nature; she was always bubbly and giggly, with her moments of annoyance at her brother being her only weak moments. She bounced around the room helping Rose and I unpack, grimacing, like Rose had, at my lack of luggage and positively clapping with glee when she realized my seriously lacking wardrobe would mean her garments would have extra room to breathe.

"Good thing, too," she'd said, "because I was afraid some of them would wrinkle, and God knows you can't get wrinkles out of silk. Impossible to iron."

Rosalie had nodded along empathetically, while I pretended to understand.

We were done in record time, though I hadn't expected it to take long even without Alice's superior organizational abilities. It was not yet five o'clock when we had finished making my bed and setting out my few picture frames. I vaguely wondered how long Alice had taken to decorate her side of the room. I also wondered if she found my mismatched belongings distracting when compared to the vibe she'd created with her silver-and-purple theme. She didn't seem to mind, but I wouldn't put it past her. She was super serious about organizing and having things go just her way, as I'd found out when she'd moved to arrange my own shoes into colors. I found myself secretly diagnosing her with obsessive-compulsive disorder.

But Alice was sincere and kinder than anyone I'd encountered yet on my trek to Chicago, even including the overly helpful guy at the gas station when I'd had problems operating my brand-new credit card for the first time back in Washington – he just came off as creepy.

Alice plopped onto her satin duvet, crossing her legs Indian-style, and faced Rose and I, where we lounged on my surprisingly-comfortable bed. She raised an eyebrow at us before asking, "So what's on the agenda now?"

I pushed myself up, leaning back on my arms, while Rose flipped over on her stomach and propped her chin up on her fists. "What are the options?" I asked. In our unpacking efforts, Alice and I had bonded easily. Even Rose, the jealousy-inducing, loathsome beauty, was accepted by Alice. She was a warm, friendly person by nature, it seemed, and accepted us all with welcome arms. It didn't feel awkward to be discussing battle plans for a night out on Rose's and my first night in Chicago.

Alice scrunched up her face, thinking. She and Edward had grown up in Chicago, and therefore knew all the hotspots; they knew where we could go to have a good time without being carded, where to have a nice, fun meal with friends, and the best place to go for a quiet night out. Her face lit up.

"Why don't we go to Palino's? We could meet up with Jazz and Edward," she said, shrugging semi-flippantly. I was hesitant to agree; A, I didn't want to interrupt whatever their 'guys' night out' would entail, and B, Edward and Jasper were not Alice. Meaning I doubted I could get along so easily with them. The very thought of trying to strike up a conversation with one of them made me blush.

Rosalie, the traitor, agreed heartedly, and Alice bounded off her bed without waiting for my response. She qualified Rose's jeans-sandals-and-silky-tank outfit as party-ready, but furrowed a brow at my girl-next-door ensemble and shot me an apologetic glance.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but the Henley is begging to be retired for the night."

I couldn't find the time to argue; at lightning speed, Rose and Alice had me out of my comfortable, familiar shirt and into a black, sleeveless form-fitting sweater with a wide, loose turtleneck. Alice plopped a few silvery chains around my neck and twisted my hair into a loose, elegant curl at the back of my head, and before I could argue that I couldn't possibly wear her clothes, forced an expensive metal-studded leather tote into my hands and ordered me to transfer all my necessities – driver's license and other forms of ID, cell phone, credit card, any extra cash, and a tube of shimmery lip gloss she tossed my way – into it.

"Wow, Alice, I know we're roomies now and all, and we're going to become good friends—"

"Best friends," she interrupted, before shooting Rose an apologetic smile which Rose waved off.

"—But don't you think this is a little much? Letting me borrow expensive clothes when you barely know me?" I adjusted the sweater – it was riding up ever so slightly, the silky threads revealing a hint of my midriff just above my jeans. Alice locked the dorm room door behind us

"I trust you, Bella. And stop tugging, you'll stretch the fibers beyond repair."

I sighed and hitched the Balenciaga purse onto my shoulder before my hands fell to my sides. Rosalie giggled beside me. Traitor.

The rest of ride to the club – Alice had called Edward in the taxi on the way over to let him know we were coming (no asking permission, no question marks, Alice simply stated, "We're coming to Palino's, we'll be there in ten.") – had passed with Alice telling me different things about fashion and the latest trends. She warned me not to play with my necklaces unless I was flirting, which I doubted would happen. I was to hold my purse not on my shoulder, but in the crook of my elbow, bending my arm up and curling my hand in towards my chest so that it would stay in place – and then it was harder for anyone to pick through it on the streets. I was not to carry my phone unless I was actually using it, and to use it as little in public as was possible. To be on one's phone constantly was very Paris Hilton and "out of vogue since 2004, at the _least_," Alice had said. Rosalie had gawked at Alice as if she'd found her newest idol, the fashion-and-trend goddess to whom she would bow down to readily if it meant she was never placed in a "What Not To Wear" article.

"Trust me," Alice had said as we were getting out of the cab in front of Deuce and she'd seen the overwhelmed expression I was bearing. "No one dressed by me is ever silly-looking. You're in good hands, Bella."

Rosalie had muttered something that had sounded extraordinarily and frustratingly like, "Thank the gods."

Alice led the way into Palino's, smiling her way past the bouncer at the front door and getting us in just as easily. The club was different from what I'd expected; while I was anticipating a thudding, swirling light show with muted music, the club was instead a friendly, intimate little bar with a back corner dedicated to four wide-screen TV's, all tuned to the same football game. The walls were a dark red and the furnishings were mahogany and deep brown leather with brass; the back wall was lined with booths while tall round tables made up the rest of the seating contingent. Around the tables were bunched semi-mismatched barstools with plush leather cushions and tall, curved backs. Around the bottom of the tables were brass foot bars. It was a homey yet fashionable and efficient little place, apparently designed for college students.

Alice spotted her brother quickly; she didn't even pause as she breezed through the front door and headed towards the far corner in the front, farthest away from the televisions and the group of guys taking up the couches and armchairs there. His bronze hair stood out from the crowd of blondes and brunettes. So did his looks, but I tried not to focus on those.

We approached the table, around which Edward and Jasper had already assembled extra seats. Alice seated herself between Jasper and Edward, kissing Jasper on the cheek quickly and sisterly before boxing Edward upside the head jokingly. He grinned roguishly at her and chuckled. I hesitated, wanting badly to take the seat beside Edward for some reason, but worried about what might happen if we were to touch – I'd never believed that jolt we'd felt earlier was merely static buildup – and therefore took the seat beside Jasper, putting me directly across the table from Edward. Rosalie assumed the seat beside Edward with a slight smirk in my direction – whether she was teasing me because she somehow knew my desire to sit there or she was gloating because she had, I wasn't sure.

Edward nodded at us in hello, but Jasper instead turned to Alice and, with a gesture of his finger, they ducked their heads together and began talking amongst each other. They didn't resurface immediately, or even after a couple of minutes, and they were talking to quietly for even me, sitting just beside them, to hear their conversation. Edward caught my gaze and rolled his eyes theatrically.

"I'm sorry about them," he said, jutting his chin out towards his sister and friend. "Sometimes they don't understand the concept of being social. Would you girls like something to drink? My treat."

He picked up his empty glass and cocked a brow at me. Rosalie cleared her throat.

"Just a Coke, please," she said with a grateful nod. Edward acknowledged her request and then glanced towards me.

"Uh, same, please," I said quietly. He raised a brow at me, and then shrugged with a grin. "Two cokes. Coming right up." He winked at me – for the second time that night – before disappearing with his empty glass.

Edward was gone for two minutes before Alice and Jasper looked up again. Their shoulders were touching and both sets of hands were resting under the table rather than on top, which brought a grin to my lips. Were Alice and Jasper dating? Were they _secretly_ dating? Or were they just naturally private about their relationship?

Either way, it was endearing in a _let's-not-tell-anyone-about-this-until-we're-sure_ kind of way.

"I'm glad to see my dear brother is being gentlemanly for a change," Alice said with a grimace. She was staring at something behind me, so I turned; Edward was leaning against the bar in a very GQ kind of way, one elbow resting on the top of the bar, his torso angled back towards our table. Through the crowd it was difficult to pinpoint what he was looking at, but it _looked_ like he was staring back out our table. . . and perhaps at me. Slightly disturbed, and even more flattered, I felt the blush crawl across my cheeks at the thought that _I_ was the one he was staring at in the crowded club. My fingers instinctively went to my throat for a strand of hair to play with, and came up empty; Instead they curled around one of the long silver chains dangling from my neck and began to twirl it around my fingers. I turned around in my seat to face Alice and Rose, who were both eyeing the necklace wrapped around my fingers, and I remembered the rule. I dropped my hands to my lap immediately, my blush growing warmer. Damn.

Alice and Rose struck up a conversation about Rose's intentions for once she got to New York. Alice was an interior design enthusiast, but was studying psychology. She was envious of Rosalie's major and the internship she was now gloating about. I sat on the sidelines, listening silently, much like Jasper. Only Jasper's gaze remained on Alice's face as she spoke, as she listened. His eyes never left her. It was sweet, not creepy at all. It was apparent how much he cared for her, even if they weren't saying out loud exactly how much that was.

It kind of made me wonder; if I'd ever had a boyfriend, would he look at me that way?

A few moments later Edward reappeared, a tray laden with full glasses hoisted above his head in a moment of grace and dexterity. He swooped the tray down and set it on the table without spilling so much as a single drop, and began to distribute the beverages. He handed over Rosalie's and my Cokes, before placing a fruity-looking drink in front of Alice and a frothy beer in front of Jasper. The other foamy amber-colored drink was apparently his. He placed the tray on a spare table behind him and raised his glass.

"I propose a toast," he started ominously; we all joined him in raising our glasses somewhat tentatively, and he chuckled. "To new potential friends. Welcome to Chicago, Bella. Hope you enjoy the stay."

The glasses all clanged together quietly and I smiled sheepishly. Alice smiled brightly and said, "Here, here!" before taking dainty sip of her drink; Jasper bestowed upon me a slight smile and a nod of his own, for which I felt very grateful; Rosalie wrapped me in a one-armed hug and squeezed gently; and Edward, who I came to last, held my gaze for several seconds. Finally he smiled a dazzlingly crooked smile, nodded once, and then took a slow sip of his beer. Dazed and somewhat humbled by the sincere welcome and acceptance, I muttered, "Thanks," before taking a sip of my own Coke.

-- -- --

The rest of the night had passed as if we were all old friends reuniting after an immense amount of time; The Cullen Clan, as they teasingly called themselves despite Jasper's last name of Hale, regaled us out-of-towners with stories of growing up in Chicago. Mostly they were fun-filled stories of sneaking into Shay Aquarium and cheating their way out of paying for a ticket to watch the dolphin shows when they were younger; of riding the giant Ferris Wheel out on Navy Pier so many times in a row that Jasper got sick; of gorging themselves on Chicago-style dogs and Coke at White Sox games. All three of them – Jasper included, as the best friend and pseudo-adoptee of the entire family – loved baseball, regularly spending their evenings at U.S. Cellular Field.

The night passed easily, and that made me less anxious about living alone in Chicago. It seemed the Cullen Clan had already set their sights on me as their latest inductee, or at least Alice had. I wasn't sure about Jasper, as he rarely took his sights off Alice; Edward was even more difficult to pinpoint. He seemed aloof at times, seemingly not all there during the conversation, leaning back in his seat and drinking his beer silently. And other times he immersed himself into the story with such intensity that it was too entertaining to look away; the way he laughed and gestured with his hands was mesmerizing.

And there were the two times I'd caught him staring at me intently as I laughed at a story or antic they'd shared. I wasn't sure if I should be creeped out or thrilled.

By eleven-thirty, Edward and Jasper each had three more rounds of beer and were still acting normal, Alice had two more of her fruity concoctions and was getting a little pink in the cheeks, and Rose and I were getting a little tired. I still had to get Rose to her hotel, which meant going back to the university to retrieve her suitcase from the back of my car. We had all collectively agreed that it was time to pack up and head home, as Jasper was in one of the classes that started a earlier than others and had to wake up at seven in the morning, and Edward didn't care to stay out too late anyways. Alice had decided, at Jasper's persuasion, to go with me and Rose to the hotel, so that she would not be alone in her dorm room – Jasper tended to be a tad overprotective. We left Palino's at a quarter till midnight and Edward successfully hailed two cabs with grace and efficiency.

Jasper kissed Alice's cheek before she slipped into the cab before Rose; Rose bid Edward and Jasper farewell and asked that they look after me – "She'll need it," she said with a teasing and yet affectionate smile at me – before slipping into the dark interior of the yellow Ford. I smiled at them both before taking my turn behind the door.

"Thanks for the welcome," I said, nodding. "I'll make sure Alice doesn't hurt herself, or anyone else for that matter, between here and our dorm." I smiled wider at them. Jasper nodded before getting into his cab, but Edward lingered.

"No problem," he said to my thank-you. "And, Bella?"

I'd turned to get into the cab, but paused and looked back at him. His eyes were bright even in the filtered glow from the streetlights; his pale skin seemed the shimmer from under his dark tee-shirt. "Yes?"

"I'm glad you're here."

Confused, and yet oddly bubbly, I nodded once, before ducking quickly into the cab. Once I'd closed the door, I turned back; Edward was still standing on the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets as Jasper waited in their cab, the door open to accept Edward. But he didn't get in yet. Just before we started to pull away, he smiled at me and – for the third time that night – winked at me.

-- -- --

"What the _hell,_ Bella?!"

My eyes darted from were they'd been un-focusing on the blurs moving past the window and across the seat to Alice, who had turned her petite body so that her back was to her window. "What did I do?" I asked, worried; had I gotten a stain or a hole in her shirt, somehow? I began inspecting the borrowed garment, looking for in signs of damage.

Alice closed her eyes and clutched her hands into fists. "Not the shirt, Bella, the necklace, the necklace!" My hands fluttered back up to the silvery strands and I glanced up at her, confused. "What did I _tell_ you about the _necklace_, Bella?"

"Uh. . ." I floundered, but Rosalie picked up my slack.

"Bella, you were _totally_ playing with the necklaces," she told me, her big blue eyes piteous.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Once. I picked them up once, because I didn't have any hair to twirl around my finger. It's a nervous habit!"

"No, _not_ once, Bella, multiple times!" Alice slumped against the door, and I randomly hoped that it was locked and it would not fly open on her as we turned a corner or something. "You didn't even notice, did you?"

I gaped at her. "What are you talking about, Alice?"

"Oh, damn, Bella." She shook her head sadly, as if I'd broken a fundamental rule of humanity and would spend the entirety of forever in Hell because of it. "You played with your necklace – or rather, _my_ necklace – at _least_ four times tonight. Including the time two minutes ago when you were staring out the window thinking about what knows who."

Rose giggled. "What exactly were you drinking, Alice? I think you may have had a little much. '_What knows who_?'" She giggled again.

"No, I'm absolutely fine," Alice said, waving it off with a toss of her spiky black hair. "That's what I meant to say. Because Bella was thinking about someone; I could tell by the way her lips pursed out and her eyes kind of glazed over."

What? Was Alice on something? I hadn't been thinking about any – Oh. Right. I _had_ been thinking about. . .

"See? _That_ look! She's doing it right now."

I shook my head. "Hmm?"

Rose chortled. "I think Edward may have slipped something into her drink when he ordered it, Alice."

At the mention of Edward's name, a spark ignited somewhere in the depths of Alice's eyes; a spark of realization. Her mouth formed a silent 'Oh!' and she nodded slightly, though her eyes narrowed as if in disapproval.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, but rolled my eyes as if to brush it off. "Whatever. I'm fine. And I didn't play with my necklace." I shot Alice a look that hopefully would be interpreted to mean we'd talk later if she deemed it necessary, or we wouldn't talk and we'd pretend it never happened. I was all for option two. I doubted she would be. She cocked an eyebrow at me before Rose changed the subject.

"So what's the deal with you and Jasper?"

Alice's eyes widened, and then her expression changed completely.

If I'd thought the looks Jasper gave Alice were sweet, it was nothing compared to the way Alice looked when she talked about him. Her eyes grew soft and excited, her smile was more understated and she seemed to glow from within. The way she said his name sounded like a caress, an intimate moment she held very dear. It wasn't the sugary, bitterly too-sweetness of puppy love, but a deep connection forged over years of getting to know one another. That was why her answer surprised me.

"We're friends."

"What?!" Rose glared at her with indignation. "Honestly, Alice, _why_?"

Alice merely shrugged. I didn't really want to pry, but I was curious.

"You two look really close," I offered. Something she could chose to fully explain or give us the shortcut version of.

She nodded, pursing her lips. "We are. We've all been close – Edward, Jazz, and I – ever since we inducted Jasper to the clan when we were in elementary school. Jasper and I share a different friendship than Edward and I do or than he and Edward do – obviously – but it's always been that way. I guess from the outside it would look like an extremely long-term relationship. I guess, technically, it could be called that."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "So do you ever. . .?"

Alice grimaced. "No. Edward would make it weird somehow."

"He disapproves?"

"Not necessarily. . . but still. It's his baby sister and his best friend. How would you react?"

I pursed my lips. "If Jasper's a truly good person—"

Alice nodded fervently. "He is."

"—Then, as Edward, I wouldn't be able to think of anyone better suited for my baby sister."

I saw a gleam of hope in Alice's eyes before she got the flame under control and extinguished it. Alice shrugged her way out of the topic and she began asking us our opinion of Chicago before we reached the university.

Once there we all piled into my Sentra and Alice directed us towards the hotel Rosalie had made reservations at. We didn't talk on the way, because Alice was giving directions. It was only fifteen minutes away, even with traffic, and when we reached the hotel parking lot we all got out and I wrapped my arms around Rose.

"Thanks for coming with me, Rosie," I said, squeezing her. She squeezed back and chuckled.

"Anytime. Come see me in NYC sometime, Bells."

"Sure, sure," I sniffled, and then pulled away with a watery laugh. Rose turned to Alice and they hugged good-bye, Alice promising to visit with me whenever I decided to go. I was surprised at how quickly we'd all gotten along; Alice even wiped away a tear as Rosalie sauntered across the parking lot and towards the entrance, suitcase in tow. She'd be flying out for Washington in the morning; her semester didn't start for another two weeks in New York.

Alice assumed the front seat and I slid behind the wheel. As I turned the key in the ignition, Alice angled her body towards me, like she had in the cab. I instinctively hit the locks before shooting her a furtive smile.

"So," she said ominously. I cringed as I navigated my way back out onto the confusing roadway, knowing what was coming. "Out with it, Bella."

I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, and smiled apologetically. "I'm guessing this happens a lot?"

She nodded, her lips set in a straight line. "Girls tend to gravitate towards Edward. He's like a freak of nature."

"Girls, as in many?"

"As in enough that you don't want to know," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I don't mean to sound cruel, Bella, because I love my brother. But he's not exactly first-love, take-home-to-momma material."

I cringed as I crawled to a stop at a red light. Why did I really even care?

"I'm guessing he doesn't really say no," I said bitterly. Alice chuckled quietly.

"Not really, no." She seemed to be trying to gauge my reaction, to I took out the seven pins she'd used to pin my hair and shook it out as much as I could in the confined space, making sure it hid my expression. I shouldn't care. I'd barely known the guy a day, let alone a couple of hours. "He can be very charming."

Charming. . . as in stare at you and wink and smile and say nice things. I nodded absentmindedly as we pulled into the university parking lot. I spotted the offensive silver car from earlier and randomly wished it bodily harm. . . perhaps a broken-off side-view mirror.

As I arranged my keys in my hand – the metal shafts sticking through my fisted fingers in a cautionary habit I'd had ever since I'd gotten my license – Alice peered at me.

"Just be careful with what you're doing, Bella. I care about Edward, but I don't want to see you get hurt."

I looked at her then. Her eyes were wide and serious. I nodded shortly once before getting out, Alice following my lead, and hitting the locks.

We were quiet while we rode the elevator to the third floor, Edward's previous words running rampant through my mind. _I'm glad you're here._

What the hell did it mean?

When we reached the dorm, we both changed into pajamas and I returned Alice's borrowed belongings. She told me to keep the flats, that she couldn't wear them anyways. She said she had several more pairs of shoes in my size and that if I was ever in need of shoes – and the way she'd cocked her brow had made it apparent that my shoe situation was an emergency, and that I was constantly in need of satisfactorily cute shoes – to feel free to comb through her collection.

"You're on your way to gaining unlimited access to my side of the closet," she said seriously, "but first I must be assured of the fact that you'll know how to use it correctly."

I wasn't sure if I should laugh or nod quietly. I opted for half and half, snickering quietly, while half-heartedly bobbing my head.

Once we were ready for bed, I decided to make a vending machine run; there was a service area in the middle of the floor by the student lounge with soda, juice, and food machines, a coffee and cappuccino machine, and microwaves. I flattened my dollar against the side of the machine and slid it into the machine before leaning back to make my selection.

Soda. . . too sugary. Water. . . too blah. I could grab a cup out of the bathroom tap that we shared with the next-door dorm for what it was worth. There were some fruit juice choices that I debated, before settling on orange. As I reached down to hit the button, a voice broke my concentration.

"Hard decision?"

I jumped; I backed into the counter behind me, knocking over a napkin dispenser and a stack of paper cups. I spun and caught them before they could roll onto the floor, and stacked them back up before turning to investigate the source of the voice. Though I really didn't need to; his words were still bounding around in my head. _I'm glad you're here._

I glared up at him, and he chuckled. "I'm sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to scare you."

I continued to glare at him, before sighing and jabbing the orange juice button. I waited while the machine whirred and the bottle thunked into the bottom; as I reached in and grabbed it, I looked up at him.

"No," I said. "I just think about my decisions before I make them."

He shrugged, and leaned against the doorframe, blocking me into the little alcove where the machines were placed. I took a deep breath and waited. He was wearing the same plain dark tee-shirt but had donned a pair of long gray sweatpants; the were slung low on his hips, the tops of his plain white boxers visible just over the top of them where his shirt wasn't long enough. I tore my eyes off of them as soon as I realized I was staring. He chuckled.

"Thinking is good," he said. I snorted.

"Generally, yeah." I cocked an eyebrow at him and pulled the lid off my juice. I took a long drink before I recapped it and glared at him. "So, are we going to stand here and exchange valuable advice like _'thinking is good'_ all night, or you are going to let me by?"

It was his turn to raise a brow; he noted my bitter tone, and then his face fell. "Have you talked to Alice?"

I breathed hard through my nose before nodding. "We may have breezed past the subject, yeah."

"What subject might that be?" His eyes were narrower and a little sad now.

"Your gravitational pull." Let him make of that what he may. His eyes hardened, and he pushed away from the doorframe. Instead of letting me by, though, he closed in on me; I was backed against the counter again before he stopped, his chest just inches from mine.

My heart hammered in my chest as he stared at my lips; I had to keep myself from licking them, afraid it would pull him in even further, but the look he was giving them made the urge to do just that strong. After a dozen rogue heartbeats, he met my gaze.

"Do you like surprises, Bella?" he said, his voice low and smooth.

"I. . . huh?" I breathed. He was _so_ close. Close enough I could taste his breath on my tongue. It was sweet. And warm. And mouth-watering. My tongue jutted out and brushed against my lips once, before I realized what I was doing. His eyes darted down to my lips again, and I heard a ow, almost silent purr somewhere in the back of his throat.

"Surprises, Bella. Do you like them?"

I glared at him for a hard minute before I blinked. "Alice told me about all about you," I managed to stutter. I'd meant it as a warning, and though my voice was jittery and he obviously had the upper hand, he froze.

I nodded, fortified by his pause. "Everything, Edward. About how charming you are. And how you just can't seem to say _no._"

He blinked, and his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but he came up empty.

I leaned into him a fraction of an inch – the top of my head came to his chin – and shook my head slowly. "I know how to say no, Edward."

He stared at me speechlessly. In his moment of weakness I sidestepped him and squeezed out of the alcove. I was halfway down the hall when I heard his footsteps jogging after me.

"Bella, wait. . ."

I ignored him and pounded on my door, having not brought my key. "Alice, open up!" I called, oblivious to the fact that it was after midnight. I doubted many people were really asleep anyways. Edward was closing in, so I raised my fist and knocked again. I noticed the goose bumps that had risen on my bare arms.

The door across the hallway from me opened inward and I turned around to see who it was; Jasper stuck his blonde curls into the hall to see the source of the commotion.

"Bella?" His voice was low. Edward closed the distance between us just as Alice opened the door behind me. Jasper looked on the verge of saying something – perhaps to speak to Alice, or ask why I was glaring at Edward so harshly, but Edward cut him off. He tossed something plastic and cold and orange at me – my orange juice. I barely caught it; it banged into my upper arm before I got a hold on it.

"You forgot something," Edward said. His voice was low and inexplicable. He pressed passed me and Jasper stepped away from the door, into the depths of the dim dorm. Edward paused and took Jasper's place in the doorway, one hand wrapped around the edge of the door, prepared to close it.

"Surprise," he muttered, before closing the door in my face.

-- -- --

**Disclaimer.  
**I don't own _Twilight_, Bella, Edward, Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, or any other recognizable characters from the saga. They are the sole property of S. Meyer and no copyright infringement is intended by the author of this story. Aka, me. :)

Now that _that's _over, I can have fun in this little space my plot bunnies allow me at the end of my updates. Yaaaay. . . (Usually they hold me hostage, tied to a hard wooden chair, until I'm ready to resume work on them. Fun times. . . )

**Author's Note.  
**Okay, okay. Before anyone sues me. I know there are a ton of "Bella and Edward Go To College" fics out there, and a lot of them are a lot better than mine. But when there's a plot pounding on the inside of your brain like that (think Thumper from _Bambi_), then you write what the plot bunny tells you to out of fear for your mental well-being. The plot bunny is a scary thing. Sometimes I'm convinced there's one under my bed, waiting until I'm on the verge of sleep to attack. . . But that's another story for another time. Teehee.

You'll find that I like to have fun with my AN's, so sometimes they makah no senseah. Like talking about giant bunnies under beds and other common, routine randomosity like such. Just stick with it, it eventually makes sense. . . you know, when your brain is so garbled by the random stuff. Like mine!

-insert attention-grabbing theng here, such as a pulsing neon light that says something to the tune of, HEY, YOU. START READING THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE. IT'S FULL OF GOOD STUFF AND FUN TIMES. JAH.-

UM. . . oh, right. Please review. **ESPECIALLY** if you liked this first chapter and would like to see more. I generally don't do this, but I'm going to decide whether or not I keep writing this based solely on the public reaction. Since it is fairly similar to other stories out there, I'm going to wait to see if anyone cares about this fic before I invest a bunch of time and effort into it only to be wasted. Like some of me, ahem, other stories. . . but, you know, whatevs.

-aaaaaaand /reading- :) Enjoy, yo.


	2. Not For The Faint Of Heart

_Thanks to those of you who reviewed and urged me to keep writing this story. This chapter's for y'all._

-- -- --

Alice yanked me into our dorm by the back of my tee-shirt and snapped the door closed

Alice yanked me into our dorm by the back of my tee-shirt and snapped the door closed. I was still staring at the door as if I could see through it, through the door directly across the hall, and into the room Edward had disappeared into.

Directly across the hall. _Surprise._

I wasn't sure if I wanted to cry or throw something.

"What happened, Bella?" Alice's tiny hands were clamped down on the tops of my shoulders, hard. "You're mouth is hanging open and your eyes look as if they might stay that way if you don't blink."

I glanced down at her and then blinked a few times instinctually. She raised an eyebrow at me and shook me slightly. "Well?"

I rolled my eyes and set my orange juice on the nearest flat surface. "Nothing really happened," I lied. I could feel the blush caused by my crappy lying abilities, though, so I turned away from Alice and made a show of pulling back the covers on my bed. "I went down to grab a drink and Edward was there. We talked, I told him what you'd told me about him." I shrugged, bypassing Edward cornering me, hoping Alice would let the subject drop if she'd just thought her brother was annoyed because I knew what he was and what signs to look for. I wouldn't be yet another victim in his little black book.

It all felt rather stupid, though. I'd known Edward less than a day, and I already hated him and wanted him in equal measure. How very seventh grade of me. Couldn't I just regard him as a friend until I got to know him better? Or had Alice's warning been uttered with the intentions of pushing me away from that option? Had she been protecting me?

I crawled into my bed, sitting Indian-style, and pulled my brown down comforter up to my chin. Alice stared at me before crawling into her own bed and mimicking my posture. She took a deep breath, and I braced myself for whatever she'd have to say.

"Listen, Bella, I know we've barely know each other for twelve hours. And I know that this may seem very weird to you, me feeling so protective over you, especially against my own brother. But I've told you everything I have tonight because I'm looking out for you." She paused, and her expression softened. "Sometimes he doesn't understand what he's doing until it's too late. He's not a bad person. He just does – well, not bad things, but sometimes he doesn't _think._"

I chuckled. _Thinking is good._ I shook my head, and Alice grinned in enthusiasm.

"Sometimes the best thing is to not butt heads with him, but to just laugh at him." She winked at me and then crawled under her covers.

I pursed my lips, thinking about what she'd said. So maybe there was a way to just be friends with Edward, and not be his enemy-slash-admirer from afar. Maybe Edward Cullen was one of those guys that I had to be careful around; like Mike Newton, who could be equal parts best friend, jealous boyfriend, and perfect guy all at once when we were in high school. Maybe the key to staying in Edward's good graces was just knowing when to keep my tongue in check.

_Staying in Edward's good graces. _I sounded like I was scheming to become more than just a friend of his, an acquaintance through his sister. I sounded like I was trying to work my way into the Cullen Clan through Edward – and, when I really thought about it, wasn't that what the Big Picture I'd created in my head was unwittingly showing? Four of us; Alice and Jazz, Edward and I. I shook my head, and like a life-size Etch-A-Sketch, the image went away.

"Thanks, Alice," I said.

Her smile was blindingly bright as she flicked off the bedside lamp.

-- -- --

"Try this one."

I caught the garments – a pristine white camisole and whatever else she'd chosen for me – just seconds before it hit the floor, and held it up. My eyes caught the price tag still hanging from the sweater and bugged. "Alice, no!"

"Just rip that off, like so," Alice sang, taking the little piece of cardboard that seemed to scream four hundred and eighty-nine dollars and some-odd cents at me, and pulled it off swiftly. She crumpled it before tossing it in the nearest waste bin. "There. Now put it on." Her sugary smile and commanding tone was final.

Still dazed by the price tag that now rested at the bottom of the trashcan, I tugged off the last shirt she'd tossed at me off and pulled the other ones on in it's place – camisole first, sweater second -- while Alice rummaged around for shoes. It was another sleeveless top, a deep blue this time, with a huge scooped neckline. The cami, I now saw, was decorated with subtle hand-beaded designs.

Alice turned around, a pair of shoes behind her back, and surveyed my transformation. "The hair's good, leave it down. You don't really need any jewelry, the camisole is enough. So that leaves these."

She handed me the pair of white stilettos and I balked.

"Alice, I appreciate the fashion advice, but I'll kill myself if you make me wear those."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't be melodramatic. They're comfortable once you're used to them."

"No, Alice," I said with a nervous giggle, "you don't understand. With my luck and lack of grace, I'll end up with a broken femur."

She clucked her tongue and, with another roll of her eyes, handed me a pair of white flats instead. "You're killing all my fun," she pouted, before handing me the Balenciaga purse I'd used last night. "Let's go, let's go!"

Alice had agreed to be my personal chauffeur for the day, as I still needed some essentials before school started. Her only condition was that I allow her to dress me after she saw my intended outfit: a comfortable vintage tee and old jeans. Alice took clothing seriously.

"One day I won't feel the need to dress you like my own life-size Barbie doll," she said in the elevator, "and I will bow down to the fashion gods when that day comes."

As we made our way across the lobby, she handed me a pair of sunglasses. "It's bright outside," was all she said.

When we reached the parking lot, I realized she was right; Chicago was _much_ brighter than Forks. It kind of reminded me of living in Phoenix back in elementary school; bright, glittering, and beautiful. The skyline towering all around us shone like pristine little gemstones in shades of silver, gold, bronze, and black. I slipped the sunglasses on as quickly as I could, though; I wasn't used to such sunlight.

In the front row of cars, the gleaming little Volvo shone like a glittering jewel. . . and leaning against the driver's side door, a head of bronze hair, a hand running through it as he watched us approach.

Alice shot me an apologetic glance as we neared the car and Edward. "I hope you don't mind. . . he insisted on coming."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "_You're_ Mr. Volvo?"

Confused, she shook her head. "It's Edward's car, we just share it while we're at school." She glanced towards the car again, and back at me. "Why are you glaring at the car like it's caused you bodily harm and never apologized?"

I grinned. "You're close, Alice."

We were finally close enough that we were within earshot of Edward. He shoved his hand deep into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. As he rounded the front of the car, Alice narrowed her eyes at him.

"What are you doing, Edward?" Her tone implied she already knew. Edward ignored her and pulled open the passenger side door before gesturing for me to have a seat. I shot a furtive roll of my eyes in Alice's direction before sliding into the seat and yanking the door out of Edward's hand. As it snapped shut, I smiled at him through the glass. He narrowed his eyes for a split-second before shaking his head and making his way back to the driver's side. He held Alice's door for her, and as she slid into the back seat she said, "You're making an ass out of yourself. You know that, right?"

He grinned as he revved the engine and backed out of the parking space. "As Jasper so eloquently told me last night, it's what I do best."

Edward navigated us through Chicago quickly and skillfully. The ride was silent; I was aware that Alice was fuming in the backseat, perhaps because of her brother's tenacity. Edward would glance at her in the rearview mirror every now and then a chuckle. I sat on the sidelines as I watched their sibling rivalry. It was pretty entertaining.

The rest of the afternoon followed in much the same matter; Alice and Edward barely talked but teased each other constantly. Edward knew where we should go for the best deals on things that didn't require a lot of cash. He also knew where to go when I told him the last – and most important – item on my list was a notebook computer. Renee and Charlie had each pooled some extra cash – beyond the cash it'd taken for the credit card, and the car, and the cell phone, and half of the trip to Chicago – for me to get laptop for school and to keep in touch. I was already embarrassed with their gifts, not used to having so many things taken care of for me. I resolved to take care of the cell phone bill and the credit card fees as much as I could, which would mean finding a job as fast as I could.

Edward led us into a small electronics shop and approached the counter. He asked for someone by first name, and then wandered off in the direction of the laptops, gesturing to me to follow. Alice lingered by the cell phones near the front, though I wasn't sure why; she had a perfectly able and expensive phone already. I mentally shrugged as I followed Edward down a short aisle, laptops on either side of us.

He was studying a sleek and shiny HP when he spoke. "I think I owe you an apology, Bella."

I looked up from the laser mouse I'd been toying with and pursed my lips. "For what, exactly? Cornering me, or forcefully chucking a bottle of orange juice at me?"

I grinned at him when he looked up to let him know I was teasing, but his eyes were sad. My smile fell; I watched his eyes wander down from my face to my arm, where a faint circular bruise had appeared. It was about the size of the cap from the orange juice. He turned to face me and cradled my arm with his hands gently, his touch feather-light. It gave me chills as he inspected the bruise closely.

"Sorry," he murmured, before placing my arm back by my side and turning back to the computers.

I tried to shake away the goose bumps. "Don't worry about it," I muttered. "My fault." He shot me a questioning glare and I wiggled my fingers at him. "Klutz."

He nodded once before someone approached from Edward's other side. The guy was young and didn't look like he belonged in an electronics shop so much as he did behind a bar or sitting at one; I guessed he was at least Edward's age, or perhaps a little older, perhaps by a year. "Hey, Cullen, what's your pleasure?" He grinned at Edward as he held out a fist; Edward punched it with a fist of his own and nodded towards me.

"My sister's friend is in need of a computer."

Edward's friend appraised me before sticking out a hand, which I shook. "James."

"Bella," I said, with a small, sheepish smile. James nodded and gestured to the display shelf.

"See anything that catches your eye?"

I shrugged. "I'm on a budget—"

Edward shook his head. "Don't worry about cost."

I gaped up at him. He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Look, a laptop isn't worth anything if you can't use it for what you need, and with your budget you'll get a piece of crap model with half the amenities you're looking for. Don't worry about cost."

I stared at him for another minute before James started rattling on about the HP Edward had been examining. I barely spoke; Edward made the entire deal for me. Alice made her way over halfway through the sale and nudged me in the arm.

"What's going on?" she murmured while she watched James and Edward go over the pros and cons of a Gateway James was showing us.

"Edward's not letting me buy my own computer," I said, my voice betraying my awe. Alice glared at her brother, but he didn't notice.

When we finally decided – I'd put my foot down, in one aspect of the sale, at least, and insisted we get the cheapest model Edward would allow me to get – on a computer, we gravitated towards the front counter. James rang up the purchase and Edward handed over a shiny credit card. I felt my cheeks go red.

"At least let me pay you back," I said, but Edward only put a finger to his lips with a sly smile. Alice was silent behind us as James handed me the bag.

"Edward will know how to program it for you," he said with a grin. Edward nodded at James and we left. As we climbed into the Volvo, I turned on Edward.

"You didn't have to do that."

"But I wanted to." He pulled out onto the street easily.

Wanted to. As in felt the perverse need to spend a crap load of money on me when we barely knew each other. What was with these Cullen kids? Money was obviously no object to them, but were they really so trusting as well? First, Alice shoving a five-hundred dollar shirt over my head, now Edward forcing a laptop into my hands without any prospect of reimbursement? I felt like they were Olympic gold-metal swimmers, and I was the fool in the arm floaties.

But more than the fact that I felt extremely inadequate compared to them, I was compelled by him. _I wanted to. I'm glad you're here._ Was Edward really just that good of a player that this all seemed so easy for him, to pull one over on the unsuspecting new girl in town without any clue as the rules of the game? Or was there – inexplicably – something more to all this?

I stared at him as we drove through Chicago, the buildings overhead throwing long shadows over the car.

-- -- --

I wasn't exactly sure how she'd done it, but we were now walking through the grand front entrance of Bloomingdale's at Alice's persuasion. Edward lagged behind slightly as Alice towed me towards the racks of clothes and began pulling out dresses and tops and slacks and loading them into her arms and mine; even Edward carried some of the burden. When I realized everything she grabbed was in my size, I gaped at her.

"Alice, no! I've already had a laptop crammed down my throat at the expense of a Cullen credit card, I'm _not_ letting you guilt me into thousands of dollars of _fabric!_"

Alice simply gave me a bored look. "Fine, fine, whatever. Remember what I said about you killing my fun earlier? But okay. I'll digress. But please, just try them on." She pouted her bottom lip out and widened her eyes, looking the part of the listlessly lost little puppy. I groaned as she towed me towards the fitting rooms with a sharp, "Come on, Ed!"

She pushed me into the largest room at the back and laid down the items she'd brought before collecting the ones Edward had been forced to carry. Once she was done collecting, she picked up a hanger and shoved it towards me, before closing the door with a snap. I stared at the slated door for a fraction of a moment, dazed, before I began to strip and model the clothes Alice had picked out. I was partially only doing it to appease her.

But I had to admit, she had great taste. There were only a few shirts that I did not really care for, but everything else fit perfectly. Alice should have been in a fashion institute, not at Roosevelt University studying psychology.

I modeled each outfit for Alice while Edward sat in one of the plush waiting chairs, flipping through a random magazine. At times I saw him peek over the top of the pages at me, his eyes raking over my form. Whenever he realized I was watching him, he'd smile and flip to the next page, immersing himself in the magazine again, and I would blush. Alice "hmm'd" and "ooooh'd" over the ensembles she'd put together, unaware of her brother behind her.

After what seemed like hours, I had tried on the last pant-and-blouse outfit she handed me. She thrust one more hanger at me. "Last one, I swear," she said with an excited smile. I sighed and took the item from her without really looking at it. It was only after I'd stripped out of my last outfit and fit it back on its hangers that I saw the dress.

Oh, hell.

It was a red mini-dress number, and I could already tell without even taking it off the hanger that it would be skintight. The material was shimmery and deep blood-red silk. Expensive. _Damn_ expensive. I checked the price tag and yelled through the slats of the door at Alice.

"Are you sure I'm even allowed to try this on? I don't have to be a VIP customer or something?" I wasn't convinced that some alarm deep within the store wouldn't go off if I even unzipped the dress to slide it off the hanger and that security would come haul me off in my skivvies, not even allowing me to redress in my own clothes.

Alice's tinkling laugh was the only answer I got, so I took a deep breath and pulled it off the metal hanger with as much care as I could muster. I shimmied into it and craned my arm around in its socket to managed the zipper before turning to look at my reflection, cringing against what I might see.

The dress _was_ tight. Unbelievably tight. It wrapped around my midsection so that I felt one deep breath might pop the stitching. It reached to mid-thigh, my pale skin looking especially white against the deep color. But that wasn't the worst part.

The absolute worst – and, perhaps, best – part was the neckline.

The dress had thin straps and dipped down into a square cut, bearing plenty of cleavage despite my modest B-cup. I tried to tug it upwards to hide some of my bust, but the dress wouldn't budge. I was seriously considering taking it off and telling Alice it didn't fit when her hand jutted underneath the door, pushing a pair of black stilettos my way.

"You'll need those." Her voice was high and excited. I groaned as I reached for the shoes and shoved them on my feet.

"This is ridiculous, Alice," I muttered, before taking a deep breath and yanking open the door to step out into the hallway, eyes closed and hands clutching onto the door so I wouldn't loose my balance in the impossible heels.

I heard one deep intake of breath, and then an excited titter.

"Oh, Bella, admit it. I'm amazing."

I opened one eye to peer at her; she was bouncing on her tiptoes and staring at the dress as if she had just fallen in love with it. She shook her head slowly, her eyes raking up and down the dress. I bit my lip as I glanced past Alice to Edward, who had put down his magazine and was glaring at me.

His hands were clamped down on the arms of the chair and I wasn't sure if he was breathing; his emerald eyes smoldered as they took in my form, lingering over my midriff and cleavage, before capturing my gaze. He stared at me for a full minute, unhindered, and in his eyes was an instantly recognizable yet unfamiliar emotion.

I blushed, and his eyes closed, one of his hands going to his hair. He stood up and, in a gravelly voice, excused himself. I stared after him, my eyes fluttering, while Alice spoke in the background.

"Bella, you _have_ to have this dress."

She pushed me back into the dressing room without any argument from me, for I was still fixated on Edward's expression just before he'd slipped out. As I slipped out of the dress and put Alice's sweater and my jeans back on, I felt a thrill of adrenaline course through me.

Because Edward hadn't been annoyed with me, or hadn't been flirting with me even. His eye contact betrayed his raw, intemperate emotions, unfiltered by any façade or game he was playing.

Edward had been staring at me with uncontrolled and hunger-like _lust_, and that scared me.

-- -- --

Alice pulled the garment bag containing my new little red dress out of the backseat with extreme care once we reached the university parking lot around four. Edward and I had remained silent the entire ride home, and I had opted to sit in the backseat under the pretense of allowing Alice a chance up front in the more comfortable seat. I tried to keep my eyes off the rearview mirror, but sometimes I slipped. Edward, however, did not, and he did not look at me once through the entire ride.

The incident at Bloomingdale's had left me shaken. I couldn't really even find it in me to argue when Alice whipped out a credit card to pay for the red-dress-and-heel combo, though I disapproved and doubted I'd ever wear it. When would I? _Where_ would I? I'm sure Alice would have an idea. Perhaps she could wear it, instead.

Edward had waited in the car until we came back out, and when we reached the car his hair was a mess, as if he'd been running his fingers through it excessively. It reminded me of wanting to do exactly that in the elevator just yesterday.

We carried all of the purchases up to our dorm – it took two trips – and once we finished piling the bags inside our dorm, Edward tucked the box carrying my laptop under his arm. "I'll set this up and get it back to you later," he murmured, before disappearing across the hall. Alice stared after him, then turned to me.

"Spill."

I frowned at her, then turned to separate my purchases from hers. "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, come on," she groaned, flopping down on her bed. "Like I didn't notice the tension between you two the whole way home," she said, glaring at me. "We're talking cut-it-with-a-knife, Bella."

I shrugged. "I don't know what was wrong. I was fine."

She cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "So what was that little show you two put on in the Bloomingdale's fitting room, huh?"

I blushed, and finally turned around to face her. "I don't know, Alice. One minute he was staring at me; next, he was leaving. You'll have to ask him."

I turned around before my skin could betray how wrong that statement was. I didn't like lying to Alice. I didn't like lying, period. But the truth was I knew what was wrong with Edward, or I was pretty sure. I was just afraid to admit it to Alice. I was afraid of what she'd think, what she'd say. I shrugged again and grabbed the garment bag from Bloomingdale's and put it in the closet, tucking it between my clothes and hers. Maybe we'd forget it was there. I tucked the shoes in among hers, hoping they'd be forgotten, too.

Alice left me to put away my things in silence as she did the same; by the time we were finished (and I had changed out of Alice's borrowed clothes, opting instead for a pair of white sweatpants and my favorite tee-shirt, emblazoned with Bert and Ernie) it was almost five-thirty. I pulled out a brand-new copy of _Wuthering Heights_ and began to read, stretching out on my bed. Alice pulled out a bright pink laptop, and we remained quiet. It was the longest I'd heard Alice go without speaking in the whole day-and-a-half I'd known her.

After about twenty-minutes of reading and web surfing, Alice's phone buzzed twice; I turned to watch as she picked it up and began reading something on the screen. She smiled slightly, then glanced up at me and shrugged. "Jazz wants to go get something to eat. . . Look, you wouldn't mind it if I left, would you? I feel kind of guilty leaving you alone. . ."

I shook my head and propped myself up on my elbows. I could tell she wanted to go, badly. There was an excited gleam in her eyes, kind of like the one she'd had when she'd bought me the dress. "I'm probably just going to read all night, so go ahead." I smiled at her enthusiastically, and she bounded off the bed and rushed for the closet, a big goofy smile spreading across her lips. Fifteen minutes later, she was gone.

I hadn't been alone for more than ten minutes when there was a knock on the door. I jumped up from the bed, making sure my place was kept in my book, and crossed the room in three steps. I pulled open the door with a smile, expecting that Alice had forgotten something in her rush or someone equally un-intimidating.

The hall was empty. Confused, I peeked my head around both sides of the door to see if someone was hiding anywhere or to see if a door was closing somewhere nearby; I saw nothing. And then I glanced down.

Just outside Edward and Jasper's door was my laptop, unwrapped and shiny, sitting on top of a thick user's manual. On top of it's shiny surface was propped a piece of cardstock, folded in half; I picked it up and flipped it open.

In an elegant hand were written two words:

_Please accept._

With a smirk, I contemplated scrawling a note saying _NO_ and propping it atop the computer and leaving it there for him. What a strange plea; _please accept._ Hadn't I, by A) allowing him to buy me the computer in the first place and B) allowing him to set it up for me, already accepted it? But I scooped up the computer anyways and carried it inside.

I placed it on the near-empty desk on my side of the room and flipped open the screen as I sat down. As I waited for it to start up and get a wi-fi signal, I wondered randomly about what Edward was doing, alone, in his dorm room. Or had he perhaps left after knocking on my door, out to some bar with some random girl that Alice had told me he liked to entertain?

Finally the desktop popped up a notification bubble alerting me that I was connected to Roosevelt's wireless network appeared in the bottom right corner. As I closed that, another alert appeared, in the middle of the screen. There was a yellow word bubble with an exclamation mark in the top bar, and a greeting.

_ecullen would like to speak with you. Do you accept?_

I stared at the alert for a minute, and then I laughed – one short, stubby sound. _Please accept._ It made sense now, at least. I clicked on the button and an instant-messaging window appeared in the middle of the screen. He was waiting for me to speak first. I put my fingers to the keys and began to type.

_I guess I should've realized the laptop-purchasing shtick came with a hidden agenda._

I hit the enter button with a little extra force and leaned back into my chair. A couple of seconds later, his reply appeared:

_**ecullen says:**__ Well, hello, bswan. Nice to see you, too. Like the display pic._

I glanced at the picture to the left of my messages: it was a default, stock photograph of a rubber duck. I glanced at his and saw it was a close-up of a baseball. Go figure.

_**bswan says: **__What can I say, I have a soft spot for the little rubber buggers._

_**ecullen says: **__I noticed it goes with your current theme._

Huh?

_**bswan says: **__What theme?_

_**ecullen says: **__I noticed your shirt when you stepped into the hall. Don't you know your Sesame Street?_

I froze for a second, before pounding out, _Were you spying on me?_

_**ecullen says: **__Not spying. . . I wanted to make sure you got your computer and not someone else._

_**bswan says: **__Aw. Sweet and creepy, all at once._

_**ecullen says: **__What can I say? I'm a vastly complex creature._

_**bswan says: **__I'll say._

We were virtually silent for a long minute, and then his message popped up: _Did Alice leave?_

_**bswan says: **__Yeah; she left with Jasper about fifteen minutes ago._

_**ecullen says: **__And you're alone?_

I frowned at the screen. _No, the president's paid me a visit; he's great company. Oh, and Marilyn Monroe._

_**ecullen says: **__Ha._

_**ECULLEN HAS SIGNED OFF.**_

"Wha—" I gaped at the screen, confused. Had I said something? My cursor blinked at me as if to say, "he's gone." I rolled my eyes and snapped the screen shut, muttering, "Insufferable smart-ass."

There was a knock on the door, and I jumped up to answer it; when I pulled back the door, Edward was glaring at me. "I resent that," he said, before ushering passed me to perch on his sister's bed.

"Sure, come on in, Edward, nice to see you," I said, snapping the door shut and leaning against it. "Resent what, exactly?"

"_Insufferable smart-ass," _he quoted. I balked. Oops. "I could easily say the same about you, Bella." He leaned back on his arms on Alice's bed. I glared at him and I moved to resume my seat at my desk.

He picked up one of the pictures from Alice's bedside table and studied it. He flashed it in my direction, and I saw it was one of their entire family, their caramel-tressed mother and movie star-like father standing on either side of Edward and Alice. "Has Alice told you much about our family?"

I shrugged; she'd only mentioned names, not really gone into details. There hadn't really been enough time for all that yet. I nodded slowly and set the picture down. It didn't seem that he had anything else to say; he stared at me expectantly. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Edward, have you ever been diagnosed with anything? Say, oh, bipolar, or perhaps ADHD? You seem to be easily distracted."

He grinned; it wasn't a friendly grin, more an accusing one. "By you, often."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his eyes boring into mine. "You don't exactly make it easy to carry on a conversation," he said, his voice low. "You see, I had this whole thing planned out; you'd sign on, say hello or perhaps ask what I wanted, and I'd reply and tell you the whole story." He ran a hand through his hair, and I bit my lip. "But you started off by accusing me of having a hidden agenda. It didn't exactly fit in with my perfect plan."

Did he even realize how hypocritical he sounded right now? Offended by my accusation, yet bearing a hidden schedule all the same. I smirked and shook my head.

"Forgive me for not following your _agenda,"_ I said with a chuckle. He glared at me before pushing off of Alice's bed. He lingered by her desk, already untidy with piece of paper with notes scrawled on them about meeting someone or calling someone else. His hand rested on the back of her chair; his eyes were on mine. I stared back, unfaltering.

He cocked an eyebrow. "You seem to be pretty well-accepted by my sister." A slow-burning grin stretched across his smooth expression. "She doesn't let just any one raid her closet."

I sighed. "I didn't raid it. She practically pushed me in and locked the door until I was presentable."

He laughed at that, and then nodded. "I guess I can understand that, what with the way she forced you into that dress. . ."

He hesitated, and I saw him close his eyes for an infinitesimal moment. "Into that dress at Bloomingdale's," he continued, with a sheepish grin. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Since you so aptly stumbled onto the subject," I said, adding more sarcasm than the subject called for; it was how I handled things that intimidated me, or scared me, or were difficult for me to approach. "Mind explaining. . .?"

He grimaced briefly, and then fixed me with a penetrating gaze. "I don't think I can explain that to you without coming off the wrong way." He took a step closer; I hadn't realized that while we'd been talking, he'd gravitated in my direction. He was now only a foot and a half away. "I'm sorry. You have no idea how much I wish I could just tell you and get it over with."

He stared at me for another moment, before one of his perfect eyebrows shot upwards.

"Did Alice buy you that dress?"

I nodded slowly. The look he was giving me now. . . a mixture of irresistible desire and hatred. I wanted to shrink away from him.

"Promise me something, Bella?" He took one more step, so that my eyes were level with his stomach. I gulped. Slowly he knelt down and, with his nose only six inches from mine, whispered, "Never wear it for anyone else."

His eyes bored into mine for a split-second, and then he was gone. He stood up and had crossed the room before I could get my lungs to work properly again, and was out the door before I could get his name past my lips to call him back. My door snapped shut with a finality that made my eyes sting.

Insufferable, beautiful, bloody confusing, irresistible, bipolar smart-ass. It still wasn't enough words to describe him.

I needed better words.

-- -- --

**Disclaimer.  
**I do not own Bloomingdale's or the unbelievable Bellward tension. Blast. I was sweating while writing that, by the way. Even _I_ wanted him to swoop in and steal second.

**Author's Note.**  
So, here's the thing. I've been to Chicago. . . once. Obviously not enough to really be down with the hip, happenin' spots like Alice and Edward would be. So. . . Palino's? Made up. And I dunno if Chicago has a Bloomingdale's or not, but I'd imagine so. The only place I haven't made up is Roosevelt University, which really is in Chicago -- it's the same university that offered me a 13,000-per-year scholarship. However, I've never actually been to Roosevelt, so most of this campus will be made up, based on a mixture of campuses I _am_ familiar with. If I ever find I need the use of a visual aid, I'll try to locate pics to share of some of the locations I plan on using. Just FYI. ;)

Thanks to my three reviewers. Hope you enjoyed the second chapter, and I hope it was original enough. Wink, wink.


	3. The Latent Seductress, Part I

"Alice, I don't want a hot dog."

The thing she held out to me, in all reality, didn't even resemble a hot dog. Or at least not the hot dogs fof Forks, Washington: this thing was laden with condiments and toppings the likes of which I had never really considered putting on a dog. I flinched away from it as she thrust it at me again.

"Bella, the Alice Cullen-approved Chicago experience isn't complete without three things. This one is most easily checked off the list." She reiterated her point by grabbing my hand and placing the dog in it. "There. Eat it. It's good." She smiled brightly before leading me away from the vendor and plopping down on a bench. Millennium Park stretched around us, a beautiful, busy, artistic getaway.

I perched beside her and, stalling on eating my Chicago Dog (how was I supposed to eat it, anyway? Surely I'd get something on the shirt Alice had forced me into) shot her a questioning and suspicious glance. "What are the other two?"

She didn't look away from the skyline that sprang up around us like a mismatched acre of wildflowers. "Hmm?"

"The other two Alice Cullen-approved activities guaranteed to complete my Chicago experience?"

"Oh, right." She turned to face me as a ukulele-player on stilts tromped past. "One is standing in line at the merch counter to buy a foam finger at a Sox game," she said, while waving around her hand, her thumb and forefinger pointing outwards. Then she grinned. "And the other is a first kiss at the top of the Ferris Wheel on Navy Pier."

I gawked at her, my Chicago-style dog threatening to fall from my hand. "A kiss?"

Alice nodded fervently. "Yep." Her smile was wide and brilliant. I wanted to throw my hot dog at her.

A kiss at the top of the Ferris Wheel. Was she joking? So was she going to try to set me up with someone? Force me into one of the cars and lock me in with some random guy I barely knew?

No. Not if I had _my_ way, if the vivid imagination of mine that was unfurling within my mind had anything to say about it. Because my mind had already replaced Mr. Random Guy with Beautiful Bronze-Haired Boy. And somehow that slinky red dress that had been shoved to the back of our joint closet had slinked itself right onto my form. I stopped the scene before I could see that hungry, feral look in Edward's eyes by blinking several times and looking at Alice. Alice, who was glaring at me as if she could see the fantasy within my head. I blushed, and she shook her head infinitesimally.

"Eat your Chicago dog. I would not force you to eat something unworthy of digestion."

I wrinkled my nose at her. "Since you phrased it so enticingly," I snarked, but took a bite none the less, working carefully to avoid dripping mustard or any of the radioactively green relish down Alice's white Ralph Lauren.

It actually didn't taste bad. I still couldn't reconcile this version of a hot dog – Vienna Beef dog on a sesame-seed bun, loaded with mustard, relish, onions, tomato wedges, a pickle spear, and jalapeno-type peppers Alice had called 'sport peppers' – with the plain ketchup-coated version I'd grown accustomed to. When I'd asked where the ketchup was, Alice – as well as the vendor – had looked at me as if I had committed a culinary sin by even asking.

Once I had finished as much of the dog as I could, Alice led me towards the Art Institute, just down the street. We exchanged our money for tickets at the front desk, and then ushered into the cool, quiet museum. It was a relaxing change.

We roamed around the museum with wide eyes and closed lips; we gazed at the art quietly, rarely speaking; the only words we spoke were to the tune of amazing or beautiful. I felt myself being sucked into the calming atmosphere of the museum and wishing I could stay here forever. . . or, at least, several more hours.

We rounded four rooms lined with portraits and displays before Alice came to an abrupt halt in front of me on one of the staircases. I caught myself moments before running into her and peered around her in an effort to identify what had stopped her. My eyes roamed the pleasant little resting area below us lined with wrought iron pieces before landing on one of the benches there.

If his ruffled bronze hair hadn't given him away, the lazy smirk he sent our way definitely would have.

"Fancy running into you here, sis."

Alice skipped lithely down the rest of the stairs and I followed. We came to a halt in front of Edward, who stood to greet us with a smile and slight nod of his head. I stared at him; Alice glared daggers.

"Are you following us, Edward?"

Edward rolled his eyes, tucking a pad of paper I hadn't seen before under his arm. "Of course not, Alice. That would break the general rules of common decency."

Alice laughed once. "Since when have you followed such guidelines?"

Edward sighed and held up his hands in a gesture of neutrality; in one hand was a charcoal pencil, and the edge of his hand was darkened by the medium. "Look, Alice, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you and Bella would be coming here." He looked in my direction then, and I could see the genuine apology radiating from his emerald irises. "I was here for an assignment." He waved his tablet in front of us, too quickly for me to see the image that he'd drawn on it.

Alice pursed her lips. "You haven't started classes yet."

He bowed his head in embarrassment before glancing at me. "I have a tendency for procrastination."

Alice shook her head twice, before turning to me. "Bella, what do you say we head back to the university?" She shot Edward a knowing glance and tromped past him, down the opposite staircase. I moved to follow her but a hand caught my arm, just above the elbow. When I turned to look at him, Edward relinquished his hold, smiling apologetically.

"How are you finding Chicago, Bella?"

I frowned at him; he was acting much more reserved than he ever had towards me, and it frightened me almost as much as his ferocity at Bloomingdale's had. Edward's mood swings would be the slow and subtle destruction of my emotional hard-drive. I blinked several times, and then looked towards the floor, suddenly shy.

"It's very nice."

I heard him chuckle and looked up. "Very nice? Perhaps Alice's tour guide-ing abilities are lacking." He took a step closer and lowered his voice: "Perhaps you need a new guide."

His eyes were impossibly large and bright and deep and irresistible. I could feel myself falling into them, tipping right over the edge of a vast clover-green ocean threatening to drown me, and I didn't care in the least.

"Bella?"

I jumped and blinked, finding that the ocean had turned back into the Art Institute, and that Alice was watching the silent exchange between her brother and I with fervent eyes. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to apologize, but no words came out. I floundered for a couple of seconds before Edward spoke.

"Enjoy the rest of your tour, Bella."

I glanced up at him with wide eyes before I followed Alice with shaky footsteps. We were silent until we were out on the street, the loud noises of the cars on the road and the people on the sidewalk slowly bubbling over my concentration. Once we were making our way back through the streets to our residence hall, I realized Alice was holding back. I sighed.

"Just say it, before you combust."

She made a sound like she'd been holding her breath for the past several minutes and then craned her neck around to look at me. "Really, Bella. Does what I say mean nothing to you?"

I sighed again and watched my feet. "Alice, I listened to you, I just—"

"Just what, Bella?" I looked up at her then. She looked sad; more than that, she looked as if she knew what was happening, as if she'd seen it several times over. She knew what came next. "Just got sucked in? Believe me, I know. I know how my brother operates. And he can't switch it on or off at will. He charms you. It's just _what he does._ You can't stop it."

I stared at her, feeling my tear ducts prickle. Ah, damn.

But she had it semi-wrong – semi, because he _had_ charmed me. I wasn't' sure when or how, but it had happened. I wasn't proud of it, the fact that I had fallen, in the matter of two days, good and hard for a guy I barely knew.

But she was wrong, because for some inexplicably reason I had this gut-instinct that this was not the usual Edward-woos-girl-and-disposes-of-her routine she'd grown accustomed to. Call it woman's intuition. Or naiveté. But for some reason Alice's concern seemed misplaced.

"I'm not just another one of those girls," I said, and Alice nodded.

"Not, you're not. I won't let you be." She smiled at me then. "I don't want to lose you to him, too."

I didn't bother to correct her misunderstanding.

-- -- --

**Disclaimer.  
**I own nothing, except a couple of pictures from my Chicago trip several years ago. Weee. . .

**Author's Note.  
**Okay, okay, I understand this is a lot shorter than previous chapters, but I plan to reconcile that little error quickly. Chapter Three, Part Two is coming up shortly. As in, don't-blink-you-'ll-miss-it quickly. :)

A huge and wonderful thank you for all my reviewers and readers out there. You all meant the world to me. To CharlotteCullen -- I'm glad I hooked you on the song. That's my secret goal in life, to make people listen to new music, reach out from their bubble_. Check Yes Juliet_ by We The Kings is currently my favorite-est song, the inspiration for this story, and my cell phone ringer. If you haven't already given it a listen, I suggest you find your nearest YouTube and search it or purchase it on iTunes (it's definitely worth the 99 cents). If you have heard it before, go give it a listen right now. Just for me. :)

Say _oustiti_ (it's the equivilent of saying "cheese!" while taking a picture in French!)and enjoy -- and remember to keep a lookout for Pt. 2. I swear, it's coming up in five, four, three. . .


	4. The Latent Seductress, Part II

**EDWARD CULLEN**

I watched Alice lead Bella away with a stern glare in my direction before raising my hand to my face. Gah. That was the only sound I could put to my utter crash and burn.

While Alice may have thought I was flirting – being my typical Edward self – I knew the truth. I _alone_ knew the truth. Because from outside my own convoluted reasoning, it probably did look like I was reeling Bella Swan into my surprisingly simple little web. But from the inside, it was an entirely different picture. From the inside, all I saw was me flailing before Bella like fish having flopped itself right into the fisherman's hands. Charming Bella had not gone quite so swiftly as I would have planned, had I had the time to plan it. Rather, she had charmed _me._

I flipped my drawing tablet closed, the half-finished face of my muse gazing at me out of the blank whiteness. I capped and pocketed my charcoal and followed Alice and Bella's footsteps, careful to take a route opposite of what they would have taken to avoid being accused of stalking again. I took the long way around back to campus. The walk helped me keep my frustration and confusion in check.

Frustration, because Bella seemed to be a subject vastly different and more difficult than any I had ever tried to charm. Confusion, because I couldn't understand her.

I regretted thinking of her that way, as a _subject._ Bella Swan was more than that. Bella Swan was far more than a subject, or an object, or an entity.

Bella Swan had hijacked my entire thought process.

Every movement I'd made in the past twelve hours had been enveloped and tainted with her face, or a memory of her that had been quickly and permanently emblazoned into my mind. Her words sprang up at inopportune moments, causing me to smile or chuckle or shake my head. Jasper had already come to the conclusion that something was off-kilter. It was only a matter of time before Alice came around, as well.

Bella Swan was not one of _those_ girls, nor did I intend to make her one. I would not use her that way. I did not have the ability. Bella would not turn into a regret I had stowed in the recesses of my mind, hoping to forget. I wouldn't forget her, and try as I might, I couldn't.

Bella had changed me. Rational or not, there it was, the solution to my questions laid out before me in black and white. There was no gray area anymore. It was Bella or nothing.

I reached the university twenty minutes later. I pushed the button for the elevator and waited for the lift, leaning against the wall as the ticker above the elevator flashed slowly down to one. I had crashed and burned back at the museum; my attempt to apologize to Bella for my behavior last night had ended up in me attempting to charm her, get her back for her hapless, seemingly unintentional irresistibility. If I could only forget trying to be the Don Juan for five minutes to get the words out: _I'm sorry. I need you. Forgive me._ Perhaps a little subtler.

The doors opened beside me and I slipped into the lift alone.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I'd gotten somewhat close to that apology last night, hadn't I? I'd persuaded Jasper to take Alice out to dinner and had swooped in when I thought I'd have the upper hand. Who knew Bella was just as potent through a computer screen?

_I don't think I can explain that to you without coming off the wrong way. I'm sorry. You have no idea how much I wish I could just tell you and get it over with. _That had worked at the time. But how much longer could I use that as my excuse? I can't explain because you wouldn't understand. Bella was smarter than that.

The ride to the third floor was short. The doors opened ahead of me and I slipped out into the hallway, my eyes down as I mentally counted the number of doors I passed. When I found mine and Jasper's dorm, and slid my key out of my pocket and into the lock, hoping to avoid detection from anyone.

I wasn't fast enough.

The door directly behind me opened and closed with a barely audible click for each action. Holding my breath I turned to face whoever had caught me, and felt my shoulders slump when it was Alice, arms crossed over her chest, staring at me. The one face I'd been expecting and least looking forward to. I adored Alice – she was the best as far as sisters went – but hers was not the face I felt I _needed _to see. As surely as I needed air.

I let the air I'd been holding in out and finished with the lock. Once I had opened the door, I stepped back and let her pass first. I flicked on the light – Jasper was still in class – as Alice turned to face me, her gaze ferocious. I crossed my own arms and leaned against the back of the door, adopting an apologetic expression.

"I hope you know I honestly wasn't following you today, Alice." I raised a brow at her. "I wouldn't do that, you know it. It was a coincidence, one I don't regret, but all the same…"

"You have to stop this. Now."

My apologetic look slipped, to be replaced with a defensive one. "Stop what, exactly?"

She lowered her chin, so that she was gazing at me from under her eyelashes. It was a menacing effect. "Bella doesn't deserve what you're doing to her. It isn't fair."

I smirked, and abandoned my stance at the door. I perched on the bed and glared at my sister. How I hated this discussion; it was similar to ones she'd given me before, regarding friends of her that I had...set sights on. Only she seemed to have put much more thought, much more intensity behind each word.

Perhaps Bella had drawn her in, as well.

I buried my head in my hands, suddenly exhausted. I didn't want to have this conversation. I didn't want to be feeling this way. I didn't want any of this. . .

. . . And yet, given the choice, I wouldn't change anything that had happened in the past couple of days for anything in the world. Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos had somehow made the most beautiful and desirable mistake when weaving Bella's and my thread: somehow, the threads had crossed, and I wasn't so sure they were supposed to.

"I know it isn't fair, Alice. I _know._ But I can't stop it, because I'm not doing anything." I looked up at her, at her furious expression and her condescending gaze and knew I deserved them both. But I had to tell her, even if she didn't understand, or she didn't believe me.

"It's all Bella. She's doing something, I don't know what. . . but I can't pull away now."

Alice stared at me for a few inexorably long minutes, before scoffing. "So Bella's some latent seductress? Drawing in the ultimate sex-crazed maniac without even realizing she's doing so?" She shook her head and moved towards the door. "Nice attempt, Edward. But I'm serious. Leave Bella alone." Her hand landed on the knob before I could stop her. But my hand wrapped around her arm gently, pulling her around to face me.

"Alice, I'm serious. Why do you think I'm in so deep so quickly? It takes me weeks to feel even a fraction of what I feel for her already. I feel like I'm stuck in some role-reversal where I'm experiencing everything I put all those other girls through... some kind of punishment for all those times. . ."

She glared at me for another minute, before her face slackened and she looked at me with what could only be addressed as pity.

"I hate to say it, Edward," she muttered, her turquoise eyes sad, "but perhaps it's no less than you deserve."

I let go of her and she slipped out of the door, leaving me alone in the dorm.

Perhaps I did deserve this. Perhaps Bella was my destroying angel, sent to punish me for all my wrong-doings before her. I simultaneously cursed and thanked whatever had brought her to Chicago before turning on my laptop. The sound of the computer whirring to life tethered me to reality.

As I waited for the machine to register on the wireless network, I shrugged out of my tee-shirt – slightly damp from the humid walk from the museum – and donned a clean one. As the computer finished its start-up and the messenger program automatically sprang up, I quickly noted who was online. There was a lengthy list of screen names, most of them blocked. Most of my contacts were girls I had dated and then ditched. It was simply easier if I disappeared from their allow lists.

One name in peculiar stood out to me. I double clicked on it and a conversation window appeared, the cursor blinking at me, waiting for my words.

I couldn't find any. Not a single word to say to Bella Swan that didn't betray my utmost and absolute devotion to her.

I sat there staring at the blank window for what seemed an eternity.

-- -- --

When the door opened at four-thirty, my heart leapt into my throat – an unpleasant sensation, because it made it harder to breath and it hurt. There were six or seven seconds where the person entering was a complete mystery from my seat across the room, and those seconds seemed to stretch for an unseemly amount of time. For four of those wild seconds, I contemplated Bella stepping from behind the door, the red dress clinging to her form and her mass of dark hair waving slightly as it reached to her mid-back. . .

And then the door snapped shut and Jasper dropped his backpack next to his bed. I heaved a sigh of relief and slumped back into my chair. All these fantasies and imagery that my mind was creating would be the slow and steady downfall of me.

As Jasper began pulling books and writing utensils out of his bag, he gave me a wary look. "You don't look so good, Edward."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "You think?" I shut my laptop with more force than was necessary, and Jasper chuckled.

"Has the Great Edward Cullen been – dare I say it? – _flustered_ by a girl?"

I glared at him with dark intensity. "Jasper, does this look like the face of someone you should be antagonizing?"

He smirked at me before collapsing on his own bed, his arms under him head. "Whatever you say, man." He stared at the ceiling for an immeasurable amount of time before adding, "I'm proud of you, you know."

I laughed darkly, without humor. "I'm touched, Jazz."

"No, seriously." He propped himself up on an elbow to look at me. "It seems you've finally met your match – your equal in every way." He grinned at me, and then shrugged. "Well, except the minor fact that she isn't a sex-infused

"I don't understand. How is that a good thing?"

"Bella," he said, with a knowing look, "isn't someone you can hurt so easily."

I groaned. "No, Jasper, no. You're wrong. I can still hurt her." I turned away from him then. "The only difference is that I'll care."

"You're not exactly painting yourself innocent, Edward."

"I'm not trying to, Jasper." I pushed away from my chair and went to stand by the window that looked down on State Street. "I know what I've done. I know I'm not _good._" I watched the cars creeping slowly by on the street below. My voice barely a whisper, I muttered, more to myself than to Jasper, "I'm not good enough for her."

"Ah." I turned around. Jasper was watching me with a strange look of almost reverence and respect. "So the renowned sinner pays his dues, is that it?"

I sighed. "Jasper, I don't know how to pay my dues. Trust me, if I could, I'd do so in the amount of time it takes a heart to contemplate beating." I blinked at him, and then my thoughts were hijacked, taking a one-eighty. " Do you know you long that is?"

Jasper grinned as if I'd lost my mind, but I shook my head. I was absolutely serious. "A heart doesn't _contemplate_ beating, Jasper. It just does. No thoughts, no second-guessing. We can't tell our hearts to stop beating. We can't tell them to stop _feeling_, either. Jazz, I can't stop feeling. If what I feel for _her_ is wrong, there's nothing I can do to change it." I was standing with my arms away from my body, palms upward as if asking for forgiveness. I think, subconsciously, I was.

"I haven't ever felt this way before, Jasper. And I don't know what to do about it."

He stared at me for a few more minutes, before sitting up and rubbing his temples. "Edward, you can't be serious. . ."

"I am, Jasper. Unequivocally." There was no way I could joke about something like this. It was an affair of the heart the likes of which I'd never encountered. It scared me.

He looked up at me then. "You've known Bella less than a week."

"And it's incomprehensible how much I wish it were much more. How much I hope that it _will_ be."

"Edward, do you know what you're talking about? _Love at first sight._ The epitome of everything you stand _against._"

I shook my head and returned to gazing out the window. My own reflection peered back at me.

Jasper was outlining me. . . or the person I used to be. The person I didn't want to be anymore. I wanted a change, wanted it so bad I could taste it. It tasted sweet, and distinctly innocent and new and irresistible. Much how I imagined Bella's lips to taste. . .

That – the anti-love-at-first-sight guy, the dump-and-ditcher, the Great Edward Cullen – was the old me. I wanted a new me, a new moniker to go by. Just Edward, a guy capable of being friends. I wanted it bad.

I turned to Jasper. "I can't change what I feel," I said, mentally adding, _I don't _want_ to change what I feel, _"so I'll change who I am."

I'm sure my eyes were bright and excited, the same as any new prospect I encountered. Any new challenge. Changing would be the definition of a challenge. I was in for the long haul, and I couldn't wait to start.

Jasper shook his head at me, looking faithless. "Good luck, man." From his expression, he meant it.

I nodded at him twice before shoving my hands in my pockets and making up my mind. "I'll be back later," I murmured, while breezing out of the dorm, my destination a door directly across the hall.

My fist made contact three times before the door swung open to reveal Bella, smiling and bright-eyed.

God, she beautiful. It almost knocked me on my ass, this unsuspectingly beautiful and intricate girl before me, hair pulled away from her face in a messy ponytail and sweatpants hanging fortuitously low on her hips. Alice must have let her abandon the expensive wardrobe for the time being. The truth was that I almost preferred this Bella to the Barbie-doll version Alice toted around town. This was Bella in her element.

"Oh, hi," she said quietly. I noticed that she pulled the door a little closer, as if she were hiding something. Alice called something form within the room but it was muffled by something; Bella held up a slender finger to me and retreated into the dorm for a few seconds. I tried not to listen to the conversation, but failed. Bella was on the immediate side of the door, close enough that her words met my ears easily.

"I don't know, let me find out." I had barely a moment to process this before the door opened again and she cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Do you need something, Edward?"

Her voice wasn't harsh or unfriendly, just professional. As if she were trying to toe the line between Alice's wishes and her own.

"A couple minutes of your time, perhaps?" I tried to smile, but it was shaky. Apparently the new, still-under-construction Just Edward was shy, nervous. The words were smooth, the delivery anything but.

She bit her lip for a moment, and then nodded before retreating again. "A couple minutes, tops, Alice, I swear." When she reemerged, she'd donned a lightweight zip-up hoodie and flip-flops. She was adorably underdressed.

She pulled the door closed behind her and smiled up at me shyly. "I'm all yours, Edward."

Her voice was sweet and casual and heart-breakingly alluring. What had Alice called her before? A latent Seductress.

Bella was pulling me under her heady spell, and from her appearance she didn't even realize it.

-- -- --

**Disclaimer.  
**SUMMIT RELEASED THE PLAN TO DO NEW MOON AS A FILM! Ah! We get a sequel! (Don't own it. Too excited.) YAY!

**Author's Note.  
**As you can probably tell from my disclaimer, I'm a tad bit excitable. Jiminy crispies!

Thanks, you awesome reviewers, you! You kick major ass, because you all gave me an unbelievable ego boost, and that made me want to write. I understand my concept of "don't-blink-you'll-miss-it fast" may be vastly different than some of your own, but for me, this is fast. I rarely write a full chapter in just a couple of days anymore. I haven't done that for months.

So, I decided I wanted to write as Edward. It's a fun little writing exercise for me whenever I chose to, but this was a little more challenging. I obviously had to give Edward a flaw, because the key element to writing as Edward Cullen is putting him down, depleting his self-esteem as he so aptly does throughout the series. I'm used to writing Vampire!Edward, though, so to write him as a human was strange, mind-altering, and completely fun. I had set out to write this all from Bella's POV, but that just might change after havign written this chapter. Edward's always fun, but this is proving a challenge, as well, which makes me eager to do it again.

Still short as far as chapters tend to go for this story, but I'm trying to set some stuff up. Bella & Edward get to talk in private next chapter! Yay! Keep a look out!

P.S.: To those of you who went and bought/listened to/became addicted to _Check Yes Juliet_ because of this story, you get cookies. Well, metaphorical cookies. But you know. ;) Thanks again for the reviews.


	5. Good Different

**BELLA SWAN**

The door clicked shut behind me. Alice was annoyed, I could tell. I'd left her in the middle of a hardcore game of Slapjack; the last sight I'd gotten was of her surrounded by little misshapen stacks of cards, her eyes stern.

But no guilt-trip from Alice Cullen could make me pass up this opportunity with her brother. It was what I had been subconsciously hoping for all day.

I made sure the door was locked and slipped my key into one of the deep pockets in my sweatpants before I faced Edward again.

He was standing with his hands balled into fists in his pockets; his eyes were downcast, for once not drilling into my own. His lips were turned down in a slight frown, a small crease in his forehead, but he was beautiful. His casually messy hair drifted in different directions; half stuck straight up while a portion swept over his forehead and part curled away from his ears. As if my unabashed gazing was burning him, he looked up with wide eyes, lips slightly parted.

I blinked and looked away – ten seconds too late.

I heard him clear his throat quietly and mutter, "Shall we?" before I chanced it; I looked up and he was gesturing that I go ahead. I nodded once and headed towards the student lounge, where the hallway opened into a half circle, the curved wall constructed of glass. I perched on the stone edge of the window. He assumed a seat next to me, his back stiff and his fists resting on his knees. I arranged my expression carefully; I hoped I appeared nonchalant, slightly curious.

"So," I started, thankful that my voice wasn't meek, "what's on your mind?"

He smiled then, and I saw a hint of the 'old' Edward – that is, the one I'd encountered in the Art Institute; the polar opposite of the one sitting next to me now. One of his eyebrows raised slightly as he said, "One thing, Bella. One thing alone."

His voice purred; his eyes smoldered. It was all I could do to remain in my seat and not condensate into a puddle of Molten Bella. I pulled my cool façade out of my archive of attitudes; I would need it.

"Alice tells me you're a one-track kind of mind."

Edward grimaced. "Alice tells you a lot of things."

"Alice," I said, my voice reprimanding of his tone, "is looking out for us."

He laughed; it was a beautiful sound. I had to struggle to understand his words. "My sister tries to look out for all of her friends. Protect them from me. In much the same way she tried to protect you from me, as well."

I frowned at him; he ran a hand through his already unruly hair. "She tried to protect _me?_" For a moment I was touched. Then my lips twisted into a grimace. "Am I not capable of looking out for my_self?_"

Edward raised a brow. "I'm sure she meant no offense."

I shrugged him off. My moment of bitterness had passed already; I was too interested in why Edward had hauled me out of my dorm to talk to me privately. "Different subject. Why does she feel the need to protect me. . . from _you_?"

He frowned at me. "Isn't that the same subject?"

"You're missing the emphasis. Why you, specifically. In a new city where I could get hurt, lost, or a whole array of other things – placed on the fashion faux pas list, I don't know – why did she choose _you_?"

I knew already, of course. Had heard the stories, or at least Alice had alluded to them.

He took a slow, deep breath. I braced myself for his expert deflection, which I was sure he'd been building since he'd bought me the laptop.

"I'm not exactly what Alice considers date-worthy. She would know, I presume. I've targeted her friends most regularly throughout the years."

"Targeted for what?" I was shocked that he was telling the truth; it made me want to hear more, perversely.

His gaze, which had been trained on my mouth before, slid up to meet my eyes. "Please don't make me tell you."

I watched him for a few seconds before I nodded slowly and he continued. "But she watched her friends go through what she thinks I'm subjecting you to now. She knows the signs, but in this instance she's misinterpreting them."

I felt my shoulders slump minimally. The way he was talking made it seem as if he didn't consider _me_ date-worthy; as if there was no conceivable way that I could be targeted for. . . Well.

Fighting the red-hot blush I could feel creeping it's way up my neck, I muttered, "Misinterpretations abound, then, I guess." It was a mumbled thing, something I could barely discern myself. But Edward seemed to have no trouble. He frowned.

"Yes, I guess that is the case," he said quietly. I leveled my gaze at him, and he pursed his lips, his hand flying to his hair—which appeared to be his safety habit, that thing he turned to when he felt vulnerable. "You see, I thought I had you pegged. But you seem to have a knack for going against preconceived notions, don't you?"

I frowned at him. "Mind explaining your crazy-person jabber for the more sane folks?"

He grinned. "You surprise me, Bella. Take that day at the department store for example. You exude this small-town-girl charm, something that makes you trustworthy, believable. And then you walked out in that dress…" He paused, his lips pressing into a taut line, before continuing, "And everything I thought I'd figured out about you kind of disintegrated right there in the dressing room corridor."

I shrugged at him. "You must remember that your sister was the mastermind behind _that _plot. My options were either try on the dress or find out exactly how an ordinary department store clothing hanger could be turned into a dangerous weapon."

He nodded. "I'll give you that. But understand this: any girl could have put on that dress, and it wouldn't be the same as when _you _put it on. You transformed into this. . . this…"

He trailed off, watching the traffic below rather than looking at me. I watched him until he glanced back up.

"You just changed. And I don't think you even realized it. I think Alice was too caught up in the dress itself to see what had happened to you. But you were different."

His eyes were drilling into mine, their emerald depths trying tell me something. I swallowed the lump in my throat so I could speak.

"Good different or bad different?"

His eyes traveled down to my lips and then back up to my eyes. They repeated the circuit three times before he spoke.

"I haven't decided yet."

And then he kissed me.

Standing on a beach in the pouring rain, a cool breeze on a 100-degree day, a feather-soft touches on the back of the neck . . . all those reactions, those feelings of surprise and bliss and joy and oppositeness, all coursed through my nerve endings and set them on fire. Lightning coursed the entire length of my body, my fingers stretching, reaching for contact with pale, beautiful skin. They instead locked around a fistful of tee-shirt and pulled its wearer closer, so that his arms instinctively wrapped around my back, hugging me to him. His lips were soft, smooth, perfect. The kiss was perfect. He was perfect. Together, we were a perfect fit. His lips left mine just long enough to whisper, "Good different," before we were fused together again.

What was that saying? Too much of a good thing can be bad? Whoever had said that must have been in this situation – this exact moment of pure bliss being interrupted by someone's low gasp. Yes; Edward and I had been too engulfed in ourselves to notice that something bad was about to happen.

Edward broke off first, his arms ratcheting backwards and away from me. Before I was able to register what was happening, or even breath correctly, he was standing, following someone down the hallway back towards our dorms.

Someone with short, spiky black hair and pale skin.

Never before had I really understood the meaning of a guilty pleasure; sure, I'd used the euphemism before to refer to my favorite foods or music or TV shows. But nothing like this.

Pleasure came from Edward's touch, his kiss, his lips on mine. Pure pleasure, so faultless in every way that I wasn't convinced yet that I hadn't just visited some Utopia of Perfection better than even Heaven while his hands were on me. But the guilt was eating away at me, because I knew, even though I hadn't seen her reaction, that I'd just hurt Alice. And that was something that I had never intended to do.

-- -- --

**Disclaimer.  
**I own a brand-spankin' new laptop on which I can write and update more regularly! But other than that, nothing is mine.

**Author's Note.  
**I have to apologize for the long unintentional hiatus on this and my other stories. My home computer got knocked out by viruses and I almost lost my jumpdrive with my stories on it (almost because it ended up that I'd accidentally left it plugged into my friend's laptop one day at school and she'd taken it home for a week before she realized it wasn't hers.)

But I hope you enjoyed this update. It's shorter than my previous updates, but I think I may have made up for that. ;) We'll hear from Alice in the next update.

-Lasia


	6. Fix This

**BELLA SWAN**

It'd been two days since I'd seen Edward. Alice had forgiven me—it seemed—and was speaking to me, but all topics closely resembling Edward, or Edward and I together, were aptly avoided.

She and Jasper were talking more often, but the subject became less and less romantic as the phone calls became more frequent. Usually Alice's eyes were narrowed and tired-looking whenever Jasper's ringtone sounded, as if she expected what was to come.

She hadn't taken me on another outing since the Art Institute incident, and therefore my knowledge of Chicago remained rather narrow.

I was beginning to feel restless.

I was almost tempted to sneak a peak at Alice's contacts in her phone to find Edward's number, but couldn't bring myself to violate her privacy that way. Early the second morning, while Alice was showering, I found myself, hand poised on the doorknob, preparing pull it open and knock on Edward and Jasper's door and ask to see him. But the memory of Alice's reaction the other day dashed that plan. She'd been devastated.

_"I warned both of you," she said, her voice quiet. I'd almost rather that she would yell or scream. "I told you this would happen, and you both disregarded me."_

"_Alice, I'm sorry," I pleaded. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I don't think either of us did." Alice's phone rang on the desk but she ignored it. I could tell from the ringtone that it was Edward. "But you have to understand that this is different, Alice."_

_Alice shook her head. "No. It's not. It's not any different than what he's done to any of my friends for the past four years. This is what he does, Bella. And he's so good at it that you wouldn't know the difference."_

_I perched on the edge of my bed, head in my hands. I didn't know how to explain it. I didn't know if it was possible. All I knew was that Alice was livid, and that was hurting me almost as much as Edward's lips and hands leaving me had._

"_You have to understand," Alice said. "You have to realize that I'm doing this to protect you. You'll thank me for this, Bella. Trust me."_

I did trust her. Even though it hurt me to do so, a physical yearning that felt like restlessness deep within my veins. I stayed away from Edward for as long as I could bear to.

I really thought that I'd be able to make it longer than this. I was wrong.

Because on the third morning, that yearning became a physical manifestation that Alice noticed.

"You don't look so good, Bella."

I could barely keep my eyes open. "Really?" My throat felt like it was three sizes too small, the words pushing and scratching their way out.

"Really. You have horrible circles under your eyes, and you're pekid," she said appraisingly. "Did you get any sleep?"

I recounted my last night. . . and the one before that. "Now that you mention it," I managed, before a rough cough split the sentence apart. I didn't bother trying to finish it, but instead began to pull myself to my feet. Alice sighed.

"Stay in bed."

While I sunk back onto the mattress, she immersed herself within the closet and came out in a casually fashionable outfit, complete with metallic gold tennis shoes. She pulled her purse over her shoulder before I spoke again.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm finding you some warm liquids," she said with a small, warm smile, before she slipped out of the dorm room.

I slumped against my pillow, feeling it envelope my head in a soft halo of comfort. I pulled the blanket up to my chin, warding off the sporadic chills that attacked every fifteen minutes. What was the matter with me? I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the cars on the street below, the music and chatter going on in the surrounding dorms.

What felt like days later, I woke up to a cool washcloth being dragged across my face, pulling a few stray strands of my hair along with it.

"Hmmm, Alice?" My voice was thick and raspy and depressing. I tried to sit up but a hand pushed me back down gently. "Water?"

A cup found its way to my lips and I took a few sips before I pulled my lips away. "How long have I been out?" I asked.

A guy's voice chuckled, to my right above me. "No more than an hour. What did you do to yourself, Bella?"

My eyes fluttered open, half crazy. For a second, through my daze, it'd almost sounded like my old friend Mike, a caring and compassionate kid who always took care of Rosalie and me back at Forks High School. Rumor was he'd always harbored a crush for me, but I brushed it off, and stayed his friend. Things were better that way.

What was Mike doing in Chicago?

But of course, it wasn't Mike. It was the second least-expected person sitting on the edge of my bed, dabbing my face with a cloth.

Edward smiled down at me. "Good morning."

Every desire to see him, to touch him or feel his hands on me, to be in his general vicinity, burned into a deep-rooted embarassment that this was how our encounter would take place; me, lying in my sick bed, while he acted as my hospice nurse. Great.

I frowned at him before my eyes scanned the rest of the dorm. "Alice still gone?"

He nodded. "Nothing cures a cold like Esme Cullen's signature homemade chicken soup," he said. "Alice is at home right now, picking some up."

I groaned. Alice had already explained ot me that their family home was a mere twenty minutes' drive away from downtown Chicago, so the distance wasn't what worried me. "Your mom didn't have to make soup for me, I'd have been fine with some nuked Campbell's."

Edward shook his head. "You don't understand. You will once you taste it."

I sighed before pushing myself into a sitting position. He began to resist, but I glared at him and he refrained from pushing me back down. I looked around and snatched up the cup of water Edward had given me earlier, taking a long drink before replacing it on my bedside table. He watched me move with appraising eyes.

"Stop staring, you'll burn a hole through me," I grumbled. Edward chuckled.

"Honestly, Bella, what happened? How'd you get sick?"

My cheeks flushed red. "I haven't been sleeping well lately," I said, hoping he wouldn't ask anymore questions.

Damn him. "And why does that warrant such a blush?"

I rolled my eyes. "If you must know, I've been thinking about you." I glared at him angrily, before the sweetest smile erupted over his features.

"Really?"

The way he said it made my heart leap. I nodded.

"Because I've been doing the same," he admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

I groaned, my hand flying to cover my face. "No, no, no, Edward… Why?"

He frowned at me. "You are beautiful and mesmerizing and enchanting—"

"No," I interrupted. "Why does it have to be like this? Why did you have to go and be all Casanova before I came along?"

Edward nodded once before turned to peer out the window instead. I could sense that I'd hurt his feelings but, damn it, I was right. This was his fault.

Whatever he'd been thinking about, he'd apparently made up his mind, for he nodded again before turning to me. "I'm going to fix this," he said. "Fix us. Fix Alice. Change her mind."

I stared at him. "You know it won't be easy."

He ran a hand through his unruly hair. "I do."

I sank against my pillow. He reached out and seized my hand from off the bedspread. It pacified me.

He sighed again. "I've never seen Alice so angry," he said.

"What did you talk about? After the… incident."

"She wouldn't say much," he said. "I followed her back to the dorms, and she came in here… but before she closed the door she turned around with the most betrayed, hurt expression I'vever seen on a person…" He shook his head. "She said, 'I hope you're happy,' and then she slammed the door in my face.

"But the thing was, I'd never been more unhappy in my life," he said. I watched his features while spoke; his eyes were downcast, his brows furrowed, his lips turned down in a frown. "I know what it must have looked like to her, and I understand where she's coming from with this whole trying-to-protect-you thing… But if she'd just give me the time of day to attempt to explain it, then maybe I'd knock a sliver of sense into her and she'd see that this is different."

I snorted. "She denies that you're capable of _different,_" I said. "I tried that argument too."

He laughed without humor, before his eyes fell to the floor. I gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"If it's supposed to work out, it will," I said quietly. He looked up at me, and the expression there almost killed me.

His eyes betrayed his guilt, his regret, his anger at himself, his sadness. He was truly beating himself up over his past. The situation brought a seemingly random lyric to mind. The song, _In This Life_ by Chantal Kreviazuk, wasn't a majorly popular one, but it was good. Part of the bridge was running through my mind: _forgive you of the things that you can't forget._

In that moment, I realized that my forgiveness might, in some way, ease Edward's pain. I brought his hand to my lips and kissed his thumb lightly. He smiled gently, flipping his hand over in mine so that he could stroke my cheek.

"I will set this right, Bella Swan," he vowed. I grinned.

"I believe in you, Edward Cullen." He smiled back, then swooped down and kissed me. I jerked away. He frowned at me. "You could get sick," I explained.

He rolled his eyes. "I have an excellent immune system," he said, before kissing me again. It took me longer to protest this time. I pushed against his chest until he broke contact. He grunted before glaring at me.

"You're making this needlessly difficult," he accused.

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "So are you." He frowned again. "Think about it, Edward. If we're going to try to persuade Alice that what we have is _right_, then we can't be going behind her back like this. We owe her that much."

Edward sighed. I continued. "And if you keep kissing me like this, it's going to be even more difficult when we can't be together."

He looked up at me from under his lashes, his emerald eyes smoldering. "Fine. Fine. I guess it makes sense." His hand flew to his hair again. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."

I giggled, before nudging him with my foot from under the covers. "Now get out," I said. "Alice could be back any minute."

He looked at the door contemplatively before leaning down and laying a sweet kiss on my forehead. He stood up. "Take care, and get some rest, Bella. I mean it. I hate seeing you sick."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah." I smiled at him before he left, the door swinging shut behind him.

-- -- --

**Disclaimer.  
I own YOU. Didn't know that, didja? o.O**

**Author's Note.  
Uhhhmmm.... this one's kinda short, sorry. Not a lot of content, but kinda cute, so... maybe you'll see past the unreasonably long hiatus I took? :D **


	7. Surprises Redux

**BELLA SWAN**

A half hour after Edward's departure, the door swung open again; Alice pushed her way through, her dark silky hair poking through first. She winked at me while she held out a sleek, stainless steel thermos.

"Warm liquids, as I promised," she said with a grin. I smiled back at her thankfully. Since Edward had left I'd begun to feel slightly better, and my appetite had made itself apparent. She twisted the top off the thermos and poured a bit of the steaming golden liquid into it before forcing it into my hands.

"Finish that thermos," she warned. "Classes start soon."

I nodded and took a sip.

"Holy crap, Alice," I said, my voice still a little hoarse. "This is amazing!" Edward had been right. I took another, longer sip. "Tell your mom thank you, from the absolute bottom of my heart."

Alice turned, her jacket halfway off. "How'd you know my mother made that?"

I froze, mid-sip, and then my brain started to kick into overdrive. "Well, most restaurants don't serve their soups in ready-to-travel thermoses like this," I said, motioning towards the tall cylinder on the bedside table. "Besides, like anyone but than a mom could make something this good?" I took another sip, hoping to drive my point home.

Alice frowned at me, but didn't say anymore. She hung her jacket up in the closet before casting me another strange look.

I took another sip of Mrs. Cullen's soup, mentally sighing in relief. How much longer would I have to avoid Edward?

Or, more likely, how much longer would I be forced to keep my encounters with Edward a secret from Alice?

How much longer _could_ I?

-- -- --

My sudden illness had disappeared by the next morning, the only remnants being a slightly stuffy nose (not unmanageble, as almost every fall in Forks had brought about the same symptoms, due to the increased wetness and chillier temps) and a strong desire for more Esme Cullen Chicken Soup. The stuffy nose went away after two days.

At that point, I had only two days before classes started. I felt underprepared.

Several of my classes had reading that was to be completed before the first session—my Shakespeare class, for example, required me to read the first act of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, an easy assignment. It was one of my favorites, alongside _Romeo and Juliet_, of course.

However, I had yet to pick up a textbook.

I'd spent all my time either acting as Alice's Barbie doll—she was picking out _the_ perfect outfit for me to wear on my first day of classes—or breaking in my laptop. My email account was satisfyingly full of emails from Renee, a few from Charlie (they were all rather the same; a hello, a quick update on Forks—usually the same, with a few of the names changed around—and a quick, "love you"), and a lot from Rose; she was enjoying keeping me updated on her life in New York. So far she'd regaled me with tales of club-hopping with her new roommate, a fun-loving girl with a trustfund that didn't mind Rosalie's sufficiently smaller bank account—Rose's looks got them in easily if, on the off-chance, they'd been forced to wait in line to begin with. So far New York was agreeing with her immensely, but she was still missing Forks, like myself. Something about the protective green canopy that lingered overhead almost incessantly. And the fact that the sound of rain on the rooftops had acted as our security blankets for so long.

But most of the time I spent on my laptop wasn't devoted to emailing or surfing or shopping. I had found the one hassle-free way to communicate with Edward under Alice's watchful gaze: instant messaging.

Of course, I was still paranoid enough to delete our chat history after every conversation. And if I was leaving my computer unattended for any length of time, I logged out of the messenger program, turning off the "remember my password" option.

Edward was taking precautions, too: if we were chatting, he blocked Alice from his allow list, so that he would not appear online. It might seem suspicious otherwise.

So, for the past few days, rather than do my assigned reading, I'd been talking to Edward online. The conversations had varied, from intellectual to sarcastic to both of us describing our perfect day. His had included sleeping in until nine, popping a few frozen blueberry waffles in the toaster, catching a performance at his favorite bar, Mareeno's, some indy solo playing a plucky guitar with a bluesy voice.

_**ecullen says: **__Then I'd take you out for dinner; someplace casual._

_**bswan says: **__I'm included in your perfect day?_

_**ecullen says:**__ Of course. Then I'd walk you to your dorm and bid you goodnight._

_**bswan says:**__ I'm impressed. I was almost sure your perfect day would stretch into a perfect night._

_**ecullen says:**__ Nope. I told you; I'm trying to change._

_**bswan says:**__ Yeah, but you're talking about fantasies here. You're allowed to do the things you normally wouldn't._

_**ecullen says:**__ Exactly. I want things with you to be different. That's why our night ends at your doorway._

I'd stared at this statement, taking in all its different meanings. The sweet ones. The sinister ones. Ones I didn't want to think about.

We talked about school, classes, majors, Chicago. Edward gave me enthusiastic verbal tours of the city, promising to one day take me to Shed's Aquarium, Sears Tower, Lincoln Zoo. My heart clenched tightly with the anticipation of the outtings, not know when or if they would take place.

One night, Alice's phone buzzed on her bedside table. Peering around my computer screen, I watched her pick it up and read the message, a small grin splitting her lips. I turned back to my screen, the small bar at the bottom of the screen indicating that Edward had written a new message.

_Alice should get a message from Jasper any minute._

_**bswan says:**__ What did you do?!_

_**ecullen says:**__ Just a little power of persuasion. Jasper doesn't like not seeing Alice, almost as much as I dislike not seeing you._

I gaped at the chat window before Alice sat up and peered at me, catching my attention.

"Jazz wants to go out."

Though her teeth pulled at her lips in a way that was clearly meant to be hesitant, I could sense her pure excitement. She was chomping at the bit to go out with Jasper, and who was I to stop her? Besides, Edward had a master plan, and I was anxious to see what it was.

"That's great!" I cooed, and Alice's eyes brightened. "You should definitely go."

Alice took a deep breath. "Are you sure? I feel bad about leaving you here."

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, Alice, _go_. You're going to regret it if you don't."

She furrowed a brow for a moment before making up her mind. "I'll do it."

"Great," I smiled. "You're going to have fun, trust me."

She grinned before bouncing into her closet, pulling out an ensemble in record time. I watched as she brushed on some dainty pink gloss and swept a thin coat of shimmery power over her lids before adding mascara, practically holding my breath and counting down the seconds until she left. Finally, within ten minutes, she pulled her bag onto her arm and stood in front of the door, waiting for the knock.

I was suddenly wishing Jasper could read minds. Then he would know Alice was ready _now._

A few minutes later, a quiet knock sounded on the door. Alice silently counted to three before pulling open the door. She acted slightly rushed, which made me giggle.

"Oh, Jasper, hi," she cooed. "Almost ready, just a second."

She flittered into the bathroom we shared with the dorm room over for some unknown reason. Jasper edged into the room, looking for me. He glanced at the closed bathroom door before motioning to me. I stood up quickly and he met me halfway across the room.

"Bella, Edward asked me to do this," he said, his voice a whisper. "I'll call him when I'm bringing Alice back; make sure you're back here and nothing at all looks suspicious. Edward's supposed to be a a friends' birthday party, so that's his alibi. But you can't let Alice know that anything happened, or she'll be furious."

He said all this quickly, casting glances over his shoulder at the bathroom door. I wondered what Alice was doing in there, and imagined her leaning against the sink, counting to fifty.

"He's taking me out?" I hedged, my voice even lower than his. I felt like a villan, going behind Alice's back like this, and even worse, that Jasper was helping; but my eagerness to go out with Edward was too strong.

Jasper nodded, then motioned for me to reassume my position. I climbed onto my bed quickly and quietly, pulling my computer back into my lap. I stared at the computer screen until it became fuzzy.

Alice emerged from the bathroom then, smiling apologetically at Jasper before bidding me farewell. I managed a tight-lipped smile and a small wave; Jasper allowed Alice to make her way into the hallway first, and then shot me a quick, conspiritorial wink before closing the door behind him.

As soon as the latch clicked, I flew off my bed and into my small portion of the closet—I wouldn't borrow Alice's clothes, thankfully. I would welcome going out in my own well-loved clothing.

I pulled out my favorite pair of jeans, with a small gash in the left knee and a thread-bare spot below the right pocket. A soft, vintage gray shirt came out next, followed by a black cardigan, unsure of how chilly it might be outside. I pulled a pair of soft leather flats out, the one pair of shoes I owned that were not slip-on tennis shoes or flipflops.

My hair was hopeless; it would take too long to do any styling, so I slipped an elastic around my wrist in case I wanted it and ran a hand through my thick brown locks; it was soft, at least, the shampoo Alice had gotten (we had decided to take turns buying the toiletries like shampoo, soap, toothpaste, etcetera) infused with jojoba oil and other ingredients to increase shine and moisture. My hair also still smelled strongly of pear from the conditioner she'd picked. I added some mascara to my features, but that was it. Makeup and I were still in the early stages of friendship.

There was a knock on the door, and I froze.

This was it; I was officially breaking the trust Alice held in me by betraying her and going out with her brother.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

Edward stepped inside quickly and shut the door behind him; standing there, he looked like a glorius rescuer, sent to bust me out of the prison I'd created for myself in the dorm room for the past couple days.

"Ready?" he said, his voice anxious and quiet.

I nodded, and then quickly reached for my driver's license—pretty much useless here, as it was a Washington driver's license, but it would still work as means of identification if it were needed—a few twenties, my key, and my cellphone. I shoved the objects into my pockets, opting not to carry my single, sad-looking purse from sophomore year, and nodded again.

He smiled as he held open the door and locked it for me, before snatching my hand and leading me towards the stairs, bypassing the elevators.

"No one ever takes the stairs," he explained, holding the door open for me and following me into the stairwell. We jogged down the stairs quickly, three flights going by within a few minutes. We reached the main lobby, only slightly out of breath. "Come on," Edward muttered, before pulling me across the lobby and out onto the street. Once we were out in the open air, we slowed down to a walk. I expected Edward to release my hand, but he never did.

"So," I said, walking beside him down Michigan Avenue. "Where are we going, if I may ask?"

He grinned at me, the lights of the city casting different hues across his features. "It's a secret."

He turned to look straight ahead, while I studied his face in amazement.

-- -- --

**Disclaimer.  
Non, je ne parle anglais... je ne parle anglais. . . leave me alooooone, disclaimer peoples!!**

**Author's Note.  
I love cliff-hangers, don't you? Where's Edward taking Bella? o.O **


End file.
